Queen & Tyrant
by PreppySinisterKid
Summary: He's the King of the Underworld and she's the Goddess of Spring. It'll never work between them. Warning: erotic content, explicit language, violence, dark themes & other adult material. Dual POV.
1. Preppy Says

Greetings Reader,

Thank you, first and foremost for clicking into Queen & Tyrant.

This story is my second attempt at writing fiction and it shadows another story on this site, 'Trust The Hellraiser' (explanation coming soon on my profile), thus you might find some similarities although Queen & Tyrant exists in a modern day setting.

I look brazenly to **Theoi Project** for resources, unless stated in the footnote.

Please note that this story contains erotic material, violence, explicit language and other subjects that might be considered taboo.

Special thanks to Madame Thome, for being so supportive of so many writers out there. To The Unknown Mystic, writer of Antithesis, thank you for your continuous enthusiasm and patience.

Thank you to my amazing, sarcastic bestie/editor, Sam. Me loves you to the moon and back!

Signing off on fries & froyo,

ThePreppySinisterKid.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

 _"I wanted freedom_

 _Bound and restricted_

 _I tried to give you up_

 _But I'm addicted"_

 _\- Time Is Running Out, Muse -_

~ KORE ~

So, I'm having one of those days.

Days which convince me that my godly existence was created solely as a source of entertainment for the Fates and if this isn't bullying, then I don't know what else to call it.

Yet, anyone who bothered to delve behind the curtains would say that whatever the Fates are dishing out is child's play compared to all the messed up fuckery that I've dealt with backstage. Kore Khthonia's life isn't all about sunshine, Top 10 Fragrances, photosynthesis and politeness strategies. Breakfast at the Khthonia residence begins with FOG manipulation along with a side serving of blueberry muffins by mommy dearest, a copy of my phone records delivered to her desk at 9 a.m. on the dot, and when the sun burns at two o'clock she'll have an obligatory visitation to my garden under the pretense of monitoring my progress when she actually wants to check if I could be the rumored pot seller of Enna. The absurdness doesn't end there; my circle of 'friends' is preapproved and basically consists of temple nymphs and priestesses who are forbidden to talk about racy movies, celebrity crushes and boys. Even Athena and Artemis zip it when mom's around because no one in their right mind would want to piss off the goddess who feeds a whole city named after them. The contents of my wardrobe would make a hobo cry and Aphrodite want to kill herself laughing - again, courtesy of mommy dearest. The most unforgettable episode though was when a total dipshit replaced the centerpiece of our dinner table with a severed human head and I was put on an early curfew and could only leave the house with a watch cum GPS tracker snug on my wrist.

Anger boils inside me. Hera made a promise that those days would be over, now, that I have supposedly gained the favor of the Moirai. So, NoBloodyOne can blame me for being a little grumpy ever since I got up to that blasted sun blaring through the thinly veiled window.

As if waking up with a bad crick isn't horrible enough, I find myself going through an abnormal amount of sheer bad luck on a fucking loop. So far I have successfully stubbed my toe against the dresser, showered with toothpaste as no substitutable goo was available, spooned sugar in my salad and pepper into my coffee - both of which was rationed breakfast - broke the remote control to a TV set that doesn't turn on manually…and just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

I locked myself out of the cabin. I'm living in isolation and no one is coming to get me until next month. I'm completely alone.

And, I left my cell phone on the kitchen counter.

 _Fucking shit._

On days like this, I wish I could just disappear. Those internet quotes about staying strong under the storm can be damned because I'm cold to my bones and all I want is hot chocolate, a big fucking comforter and Kobo. Better yet, Netflix. My anchor is rusty, it's about to snap and I'll sink if I keep fighting far out in the ocean. For once, dear gods, I want to breathe easy and not hold it in every time, expecting a hurricane. When will it be over? When will enough be _enough_?

Tears fall on my cheeks and I wipe them away roughly. _I'm not going to cry._ I've been here for less than a week, if I crumble to the ground and let my emotions loose, I know I won't survive the rest of my stay. And no way in fucking Tartarus was I going to let that happen! I've sacrificed so much to be here. It took one bad relationship, my mother's wrath and nasty welts on my skin to make me realize that this is what I need. Giving up all possibilities of love and marriage suddenly seems like a small price to pay if I can live my life as independent, free and at peace as most virgin goddesses could manage.

No god to throw knives at my heart like it's a fucking target.

No mother on the sidelines to test my body with a leather belt.

Those thoughts should provide me relief; at least that's what I've been anticipating since I took the pledge but things are not going as planned. As the day of the ordination nears, I'm getting more and more restless. Sleep has abandoned me and so has my appetite but pride refuses to quit. My gut feeling is screaming in terror but pride, proving a good ally, kicks back with a gin and tonic in hand and tells my instincts to shut the fuck up.

Looking back at the closed cabin door, I let out a huff. I know I'll find a way around this but I seriously need some time to cool off first. Finishing a few stretches in my shorts, t-shirt and red sneakers; I walk along the sea of purple catmints growing on both sides of the pathway, before I begin running into the woods. The fragrance of springtime flowers thins away as I venture deeper into the thick forest and the calming, woody scent of damp earth and wet foliage embalms me. Sunlight streams sporadically between the tight canopy of leaves, casting dim shadows on the lower parts of the landscape; I'm not sure where I am heading but the surge of adrenaline keeps me moving, swiftly dodging trees, leaping over fallen branches. Fresh air in my lungs fuels my body, I run fervently, testing my endurance, further into the wilderness away from the complexities of reality. A wanderer looking to get lost in Pan's labyrinth...

The magic soon dissolves, expelling me of Nature's charm. My body starts to throb, my muscles strain to keep up; I don't know for how long I've been running. Time has lost me. And this is one of the few numbing emotions that I wish I could bottle up and save for later.

The echo of a waterfall coming from the north ensnares my aching flesh, slowing down my feet to a jog. I can barely hear the birds chirping as I get closer. The sound of cascading water grows louder and is almost deafening but the noise doesn't bother me so much; it's a good distraction for what's on my mind. When I step past the final barrier of trees, pushing away the low branches hiding the enchanting scenery, I breathe in the crisp air and sit on a smooth rock near the edge of the river. Pulling off my shoes, I toss them over my shoulder and hear them thump on the dry ground. I sigh in relief as I dangle my feet into the cold water. The brownish green pebbles on the riverbed gleam against the sun like forgotten jewels, two dragonflies weave past my legs and make their way to a cluster of hemlock lining the wet, lumpy bank. Tension slowly dissipates from my body and I stretch my neck gently, trying to relieve the stiffness.

 _I suppose the day isn't too bad._

So what if a bunch of random shitty stuff happens?

Life is an asshole but I'm a motherfucking survivor. I just need to pull myself together and focus on making things better. I'll make organic body soap from scratch, a mean lasagna for dinner. And the part about getting locked out, it's not a big deal… I'll just break a window and crawl through it. Problem solved. It's not the end of the universe. I've been through worse and came out of it in one piece.

 _I'm not broken…_

Suddenly, a branch snaps behind me and I whip my head to the direction of the sound. But I see nothing, no sight of a single animal. Any other day, I would have shrugged it off but the crack was too loud for me to dismiss as the work of nature, there has to be a bigger culprit. Keeping my eyes on the surrounding trees, I stay rooted, unmoving and wait a little longer; running my gaze further into the forest, remembering a few things Artemis taught me about hunting.

 _If you stop at the noise and wait long enough, your prey will reveal itself._

My body is calm but my senses are on high alert. My ears filter through the rush of the waterfall and the melody of the birds; straining to catch another sign of movement but the woods suddenly seem so dark and muted like the dead despite the richness of life thriving on every surface. The only being who cooks, sings and walks on the hills of Nysa these days is me. Nobody else lives around here, the Olympians have sealed off the area and any mortal who dares trespass would have crumbled to ash from lighting strikes. Yet, I can swear there's something in the shadows…

 _Where are you?_

An eerie feeling slithers up my spine, raising the hair behind my neck. I almost shiver at the clenching of my gut, the alarms going off in my head. I almost winced when I realize... I'm mistaken.

 _I'm not the hunter._

The one being observed is _me_.

Quickly pulling my legs out of the water, I climb over the rock and land on the wild grass. I snatch the shoes off the ground and shove my feet in it.

The entity lurking in the forest is not a beast but something much, _much_ worse.

 _Him…_

Startled by the ardent rustling coming from the woods, I don't risk a glance but run up to the waterfall; heading for higher ground. I push myself up between two large boulders and land into the shallow edges of the river, bracing against the sinking of sand and pebbles beneath my step. I don't know this place well but I cannot turn back. It'll be like traipsing right into the heart of the fire. Left without much choice, I make my way across to the deeper end, the current getting stronger, rushing up against me, threatening my stance but I force my body to keep going. I have to keep going.

I have to keep running.

The water rises up to my waist as I get to the middle of the river, the stream is rough and it feels like I'm walking through wet cement. Putting one foot in front of the other has never been so challenging. I almost didn't catch the splash behind me; reaching closer despite the deceiving faintness that I hear over the blasting water. I don't stop. I don't turn around. I scream in frustration as my clothes become more constricting under the spray; the wet burden clinging onto my skin, making it so difficult for me to move. I don't stop but press myself further… hoping, _praying_ that I'll make it.

Violent rippling waves engulf my midriff; the heavy force pushing against my thighs indicating that he's moving really fast.

Spurred by desperation, I lunge forward, stretching my arm as I do so, willing myself to grab a root, a rock, something…, _anything_ to help me move ahead. But the current is as strong as it is ruthless. I couldn't prepare for it. My sneakers slide off the pebbles and my body is thrown off its balance.

 _Shit!_

Suddenly, I feel a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around my waist, lifting me out of the water. I let out a scream and start kicking wildly, my fingers clawing at the ones searing into my flesh.

My cries for help are muffled as a piece of dark cloth is pressed over my nose and mouth. I don't inhale but jerk my head violently, I need to free myself and I desperately look for an opening so I can slip out of this hold. His hold of me.

If my body loses this battle, I'll be damned for the rest of eternity.

Outsmarting my mother is one thing. Her 'motherly affection' could not outweigh a deeper desire. A desire to steer me into the path that she considers dignified and safe; a path she once snubbed because of her own greedy ambition to sit on the high throne of Olympus. When I decided on the pledge, I wasn't offering an olive branch. I did it to escape her prison. She was so delirious with joy that she didn't cast any suspicion. Though I don't think my mother cares about my intention, she never did ask why I wanted to do it. My betrayal was quickly forgotten. Everything was forgiven. Once again, I was her little maiden.

The Olympians couldn't see it and Demeter especially failed to notice that I am no longer Kore, the maiden.

 _He_ did it to me.

Again and again and again.

He made me dirty… _very_ dirty.

He caressed me, then he twisted me… and I fucking _loved_ every second of it.

But he is not an Olympian, he isn't Demeter. Not a single soul who wronged him has ever managed to escape, he's smart, manipulative and cunning, I was so stupid to believe that I could play him and now he's here. He has found me. The God of the Underworld is notorious for torture, mutilation and hooking bodies from the Golden Bridge…and he never forgives.

I, on the other hand, didn't stop myself. I spat on his pride, chose a side and threw him under the fucking bus. A bus filled with mocking, self-loathing Olympian hypocrites.

I feel his lips against my ear, his voice sounding cool and calm against my resistance. Fear roars inside me, my body riles at his cooing.

The struggle I'm putting up only made him tighten his grip on me and I can't go on anymore, I don't want to give in but the need to breathe overpowers all of my other senses. Reluctantly, I suck a deep breath and then another, the sickly sweet essence coaxes my flesh to go limp, and my mind blissfully drowns in the strange black pool of unconsciousness.

One last thought lingers before darkness binds me.

 _I am the prey._

* * *

 **PREPPY:** Like it? Don't like it? Review and let me know ;)

 **Footnote:**

 _1. **FOG manipulation** \- Fear, Obligation  & Guilt; the acronym FOG, for Fear, Obligation and Guilt, was first coined by Susan Forward & Donna Frazier in Emotional Blackmail and describes feelings that a person often has when in a relationship with someone who suffers from a personality disorder. _


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

 _"Primer gray is the color when you're done dying_

 _I'm trying to drink away the part of the day_

 _That I cannot sleep away"_

 _\- Polar Opposites, Modest Mouse -_

~ KORE ~

 _ **Enna, Sicily.**_

 _ **A year earlier…**_

"Be it Gods or men…all males are greedy pigs!"

My mother's stern voice comes from the head of the table, cutting through my reverie.

Sparing her a glance, I see that she is talking heatedly into the phone. I'm not sure too what the problem is but I think a few of my mother's farming apprentices were caught selling their produce to an unknown buyer and for some reason my mother is pissed off about it. But business is business right? I mean, why stop a bunch of farmers from making extra cash? It's not like Lady Demeter doesn't have enough wealth to drown the whole of Sicily in it.

"How dare he steal from me?! All these years, treating me like a fool! No, no! I'm not letting this go. Stop taking his side, Hestia! I've called for a meeting with Zeus." I hear her say, then silence, and then she furiously replies, "Don't test my patience. If you cross me on this, you'll make an enemy out of me. Arghh! To Tartarus with bloody relations! That arrogant son-of-a-bitch can be damned!"

 _Holy Gods._

My jaw almost dropped. Thankfully, I still have some control over my nerves or else I couldn't have composed that poker face for when mom gave me a regretful onceover. This is the first time I hear my mother curse. Clearly, the black trade is upsetting her. When I saw a copy of the Golden Times and my phone records remained untouched on her work desk this morning, obviously, it wasn't a normal sight but I didn't think much of it. But looking at her now, I'd say things have gone downhill.

Whatever. It's not like she'll tell me if I ask anyway. In this house, we don't do heart to heart.

I sink lower in my chair, my hands fast at work on the new flower I envisioned while doodling random patterns and stick figures on my sketchbook. Reaching for two color pencils of different hue, I started shading and contouring the petal. There aren't enough details on my flower art but I don't mind it. Too much thinking seems to spoil the arbitrariness of my creation. Maybe it has something to do with the word 'procrastinator' sandwiched amongst my many middle names, but I happen to find myself feeling utmost creative at the very last minute.

Flowers are my forte. I grow and nurture them, and they make me happy. My creation may go unnoticed by many but I see the small, subtle joy it gives, the sweet scent clouding the night air where lovers meet, the vibrant colors that lure a smile, the transience that embodies the brevity and mystery of life. The rich may demean its simplicity, the powerful derides its harmlessness, but their conceit fades against the muted whispers of the vulnerable. My flowers may seem bright in a golden vase but it survives best in the dark, dirty soil where the poor appreciates its sincerity and the tortured shelters its innocence.

Although none of it was said out loud, I know that many immortals don't think very highly of my powers. On occasion, I even hear some of mom's priestesses' talk that I'm piggybacking on her high station, that my abilities are a mere pitiable representation of her own majestic powers. The prayers I receive aren't for me, rather it beseech that I appease Demeter's displeasure in hopes that she may be bountiful in her blessings. For long now I have stopped feeling jittery and excited whenever news arrives from the temple; the words from my altar, I've come to realize, are never for me.

If I was being honest with myself, being the Goddess of Spring does little to boost my powers. On top of that, mom refuses to let me show myself or perform deeds that could strengthen my divinity and grow my abilities. She plays the protective mother card any time I question her about it, using my safety and men's perversity as reasons to justify her actions. Why can't she see how her restrictions are only weakening me! I am a child of the King of Gods and the Goddess of Harvest, the highest deities, the first Olympians and yet, my powers are so insignificant as to render me the weakest amongst my siblings.

The tip of my color pencil breaks on the pressure of my grip and I momentarily shuffle out of my thoughts. A housekeeper brings in our dessert of fruits and a cake. Mom, while barking into the phone, balances it between her ear and shoulder, and cuts me a slice; choosing the side where a plump, red strawberry sits on the bulb of fresh cream on the edge of the cake.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, I mouth a 'thank you' and fork some of that yummy goodness into my mouth. Look, I know my mother isn't a bad person but I wish she would trust me more and let me discover life beyond Enna. Mom rarely tells me stories from her past; I'm void of any knowledge of her life before the Golden Age of Olympus. There are stories from the Great War, ones that I hear from gossiping nymphs. They say that my mother wasn't always like this, apparently she was an adventurous deity, bold even…the tales go so far as to say that she even had a lover, and then something happened after the war, it wasn't certain if he broke it off with mom or if she'd turned her affections to Zeus, my father, but it seems that during that time, she changed. Demeter became a completely new person.

If the stories are true, then, I hope that someday Demeter could resolve her issues and see that I'm not her. I don't carry her ambitions or the weight of her desire.

I am Kore, I'm my own person.

And I too have secrets…

Flipping to a new blank page, I start making the same outline that I've been doing these past couple of days. Slanting my color pencil, I begin smoothing the corners, defining the nose, shading the jaw, filling the eyes. Once finished, I find myself staring at his face, his disheveled hair and those brown eyes. My crush. I try to keep myself from blushing and steal a look at my mother who has moved on to another topic, my breath hitches when she suddenly catches my eyes and lifts a brow.

Oh my Gods. Oh my Gods. Oh my Gods.

I offer a tight smile and pray she doesn't request to see my drawing. Dear Fates, if my mother sees it, she'll fucking lose her shit! Thankfully, she relaxes and turns away slightly, about to end the conversation. I quickly and quietly tear the paper and shove the pieces inside my pocket.

My mother drops her phone on the table and smiles at me. The kind of smile that reeks of her helicopter parenting; seemingly friendly yet sufficiently patronizing and a tad bit threatening. A smile that makes you sweat. "Everything okay, Kore?"

I swallow a knot that has suddenly formed at the back of my throat. _Why? Is my face red?_ Resisting the urge to check my reflection in the gigantic mirror plastered on a side wall, I put on my most reassuring smile and hear myself saying, "Yeah, everything's good mom."

Mom is really the last person I would share my secret with. No, I take that back. I would happily take a trip down to the Underworld any day if that warrants my mother remaining oblivious about my crush on her weekly guest.

"Very well." she nods. "I won't be able to take a stroll in your garden, child. I hope you don't mind."

 _Hope I don't mind? Gracious Fates, I'm ecstatic!_ Knowing my mom, a 'stroll' isn't a stroll. It's a fucking inspection.

"I'm rushing to Olympus. Urgent business." Anger infects her voice as she speaks.

I can hardly believe my ears. I love it when Demeter goes to Olympus. She gets home really late and I get a whole day to myself.

 _Yes! Yes! Yes!_

Folding my lips between my teeth, I refrain myself from smiling or jumping up my chair and throwing a dozen air punches! Whew, I feel like a leash has already come off my neck.

"In the meantime, find something productive to do, will you?" her snippy remark fails to irk me. "And don't leave the house!"

"Yes." I choke out the words, my voice sounding more like a croak. Before she could formulate any suspicion, I blurt, "Gonna work on a new flower." I add a shrug, hoping to appear impassive.

"Mm. Be careful."

Her phone vibrates on the table and she narrows her eyes when she sees the caller ID, then I notice how she curls her left hand into a fist. Fates help whoever is on the other side of the line. "Off you go, Kore." she says dismissively, her tone curt. "I'll see you at dinner."

I don't say another word and walk out hiding a smile.

This day could not get any better.

 _"Wanna tell you story_

 _About a woman I know_

 _When it comes to lovin'_

 _She steals the show"_

 _\- Whole Lotta Rosie, AC/DC -_

~ HADES ~

On the day of my return from Tartarus I find myself in the company of three very hot, very naked nymphs who could fuck like no one's business.

The room reeks of debauchery, of sweat, cum and weed and I can't think of a better place to be. Sprawled on the couch, smoking prime cigar, chugging a bottle of Jack; watching the girls suck each others' tongue on my bed, I'd say it a pretty good way to start the day. After another week in the pits, I expect nothing less.

No hard feelings. I love being in Tartarus, there is a matter of indulgence when you're the one calling the shots, delivering torture. Every time I descend into the pits, a dark energy consumes me, it unleashes my wrath, providing a rush that permeates my bones and burns my blood, it's a heavy temptation and I don't bother resisting.

Like when three girls show up on my doorstep in their little thongs…how could I deny them?

My eyes follow the path of Leuce's hands as they glide over Minthe's tits, circling her nipples and pinching them between her fingers. The biker chick, Evarne, breaks from the kiss and rolls onto the empty side of the bed. She moves her hand slowly down her stomach, spreading her legs wide open and slips her fingers between them. Her gaze falls on my rock-hard dick. I raise a brow, then reach down to stroke my shaft, spurring her on.

Leuce knows how to throw a party celebrate my arrival back into the Underworld. She's one to look out for when I need a good time. We've been friends since the war and she'd found a way to keep my morale up after a fucked up battle. When she decided not to descend with me or take the penthouse suite I got her in Asphodel, I respected her decision. Being the daughter of Okeanus and Tethys, she chose to reside permanently with her pacifist Titan parents but often pops her head in my kingdom for a quick fuck in the office. And she knows the drill.

I don't fuck to claim.

When I do it, I always use a rubber. I don't attach myself to any women. The ones I get involved with physically are under no pretenses; they enter my bed willingly and leave with a sated smile and a sore pussy to last a whole good week.

Back in the day, when I first got to the Underworld, I celebrated my return from Tartarus by pushing dope into my veins and snorting copious amount blow off hookers' tits. Throughout the first few years I was mostly high on some kind of drug, soaking my fists with blood or balls deep in some girl's pussy; it was the only way I knew how to unchain myself, so I partied hard and fucked harder.

I got into fights. I fucked. I got wasted. I did drugs. I tortured. I killed. I did more drugs. I fucked.

My habits pissed some people off, mostly just one woman. She stormed into the cheap motel I was staying in and caught me right in the act. She didn't cringe or apologize to her new King and leave me to finish what I'd started. Instead she dragged me out of that coke-infested shit of a room and did some really messed up stuff that never made me look at drugs the same way again. I've sworn off most of it, except for the occasional joint. I stopped having bar fights with the folks I was destined to govern and started sparring for recreation. I channeled my deprivation on perfecting the techniques of torture and everybody knew not to fuck with me. They began to see what a monster I am, and it's fucking fantastic. People say I'm cruel; I'm not going to refute it.

I find fear to be the common denominator to people's motivations and I feed on it.

Friends, I don't have many. With so many Gods eager to trample another in the bid to gain mortals' faith, you can only trust a few.

Leuce, for one, is an exception. She'd been there for me through shit and glory.

As if sensing my thoughts, she pulls away from Minthe, laughing. Breathless, she glances at me for a beat. "I'm done warming up," she states and beckons me with her finger.

"Good. I'm done waiting."

Placing the nearly depleted bottle on the coffee table and stubbing the cigar into the ashtray, I smile and stride towards them. I barely got onto the bed and Evarne is already kneeling on the mattress, eagerly pressing her lips to mine. A second later, I'm groaning as Minthe grips my cock, giving it a slow pump while she sucks on my neck. Leuce move behind me and drags, slow wet kisses down my spine.

Every kiss, every stroke, devised to drive me over the edge.

Sliding lower, Evarne nips playfully at my pecs, and I smack her ass hard, watching it jiggle. The loud, carnal hiss that came from her lips sounds so tortured and lewd at the same time.

"My lord, I need you…inside me…now!" Minthe demands, her breath hot and teasing against my neck. She kisses her way to my chest and I lower her onto the pillows and suck one straining nipple, making her moan and her hips buck off the mattress. I shove two fingers inside her, fast and without warning, eliciting a hard gasp, feeling her clamp down on my fingers as she groans louder and louder with each thrust.

At the corner of my eye, I see Evarne get under Leuce. Then, I observe her push two fingers into the Evarne, following my action. Leuce catches my ravenous stare and grins up at me. Then, she trails kisses down Evarne's hipbone, moving towards the apex of her thighs.

Pumping my fingers inside Minthe, I move my other hand down and nudge Leuce's legs apart. My lips travel over her smooth, deep tanned skin until I got to the end of her tail bone, and I lick my lips at the sight of her wet cunt. Just as she begins licking Evarne, I spread her folds, circling my thumb over her clit. Then, I plunge my tongue inside her, hearing her screams fill the room.

The steamy wetness on my fingers tells me that Minthe's getting off on this. Reaching over the drawer, I grab the vibrator, turn it on and push it inside Leuce. Quickly, her hand follows and she fucks herself with the red toy as Evarne comes on her tongue.

Turning my attention back to Minthe, I order her to grab the condom. I practically grunted those words. Fuck, I need release.

She opens the drawer and fishes out a packet, and tears the foil between her teeth. I pull my fingers out of her pussy and thrust them inside her mouth, letting her suck greedily while she circles her finger along the wet tip of my cock; a lustful stare in her eyes. I know what she wants. Pussy will have to wait. Minthe takes it better further down. I grab her head back and squeeze her tit. "You want my cock in your ass, Minthe?"

"Yes, yes" she whimpers, grinding her hips against my erection. "Please - My Lord…"

"Wrap me up." I growl.

She moans eagerly and scoots nearer, ready to roll the rubber on my dick…

 _ **Bang! Bang! Bang!**_

Someone pounds on the damned door. Minthe jolts in shock and Leuce peeks up at me questioningly.

 _What the fuck?!_

Then, a voice shouts "Yo, boss-man, open up!"

"I'm gonna kill that motherfucker!" I mutter under my breath.

Leuce got up from her position, looking annoyed. "Please, do."

Getting off the bed, I pull on the boxers and walk to the door; my irritation growing at the incessant beat on the heavy wood.

I yank open the door to a gum-chewing Morpheus who shrugs and takes a step to the side. I narrow my eyes at the witch standing before me. This was unexpected."Hecate?"

"Forgive me Lord Hades but I have urgent news!"

If it were any other entity I would have smite them on the spot and slammed the door to their charred remains. But Hecate and I function on a mutualistic relationship; we toss favors without excessively getting into each other's business. She of all people knew when not to disrupt me. Hence, her presence here means some shit had gone down while I was going down on a pussy. "What is it?"

Dragging a shaky breath, she straightens her posture; appearing more like the calm witch I knew her to be. "All shipments to the Underworld have been put on hold. The grains, vegetables, fruits…everything."

"Why?"

"They gave no reason. Seemed too scared to talk."

"But our payments are always on time and we've been so discreet…" Morpheus asserts, leaning against the door jamb.

I could think of several deities who would sink that low. Anger radiates off my stance but I keep my features composed.

Right away I notice that Hecate is staring at me differently. My eyebrows soar up. "Heard something?"

"Rumors. At the crossroads." Lowering her voice, she shares her knowledge. "Apparently _she_ _found out_ and brought it up to the council."

"About time if you ask me." It's nearly impossible to keep transporting tons of resources into the Underworld without casting any suspicion. I rub the back of my neck, trying to relieve the growing tension. "How much is left in the storage?"

Morpheus answers while trying to peep into my room, "Enough to last a month. Maybe less - Oh hey Leuce! Minthe!" he calls, waving at the girls. "I dunno who _you_ are baby girl but I wouldn't mind findin' out."

Stepping out in my boxers, I shut the door behind me; stopping Morpheus from entering my room and pimping himself to my guests.

Observing Hecate's silence, I take it that she can't do anything about the situation. _Fuck._ The bitch really screwed us up big time. "I'll take care of it."

Suspicion laces her tone as she queries, "What do you plan to do, my lord?"

Morpheus sees the look on my face and pops his gum.

"Make her pay."

* * *

 **PREPPY:** So, what do you think?


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

 _"Well your mama kept you but your daddy left you_

 _And I should've done you just the same_

 _But I came to love you_

 _Am I born to bleed?"_

 _\- Lonely Boy, The Black Keys -_

~ KORE ~

 _ **'He destroyed me in the end. He looked me in the eye, I who was his life, his love, his wife, and swung that sickle clean through my body. There is an old saying that in every tyrant's heart there springs in the end, this poison, that he cannot trust a friend. In the end, I could not pluck that poison that had so deeply blackened my King's soul and paid an unbearable price. The loss of my home and form could not compare to the sorrow of losing my children. I'm not writing to justify myself nor am I seeking forgiveness because my deeds cannot be forgiven, but I can only pray and hope that the Fates shall look kindly upon you. I've dreamed, time and time again, us on the throne, the heavy crown of our heads, and my fingers on the kill switch. Only this time, I don't pause and let the fire erase our powers, our fears, our sins.'**_

 _Broken_. That's the title of the book. No author's name is on the black hardcover and frankly, there is no need for it. Every deity who isn't comatose knows that, Rhea, the former Mater Theon wrote that autobiography. The book's release was highly controversial; Olympia Broadcasting Station ran that story for five weeks straight before the books hit the shelves, and another additional twelve weeks of airing public protests on the streets, mixed reviews from rising demigods, and celebrity heroes; some had even gone so far as to embrace the ritual of book-burning. Had Rhea gone with the traditional forms of publishing, the book may not have reached the masses. The First Olympians would have thrown her drafts into the fires of Pompeii and risk another massive eruption just because they don't gel with dear old mom. But they recovered fast, approving a second tier Olympian to an exclusive interview on the Late Night Show and considering Hermes' age and lack of genuine knowledge about the whole incident, I must say he did a bang up job - witty responses and funny puns do have their way around the audience, also it didn't hurt that the host was gay and the Messenger of the Gods was armed with a six pack abs and a smile engineered to unhook bras from a hundred mile radius.

The backlash was plenty but Rhea never came out to defend herself, perhaps in fear for her safety. Rumor has it that she constructed a new form while she was still _in_ captivity and escaped soon after since no one recognized her, and then wrote _Broken_. Another version says that Rhea inhabited a dead woman's body after Cronus butchered hers, finished her book on borrowed time before she got banished to Tartarus, and that it was Metis, a fellow Titaness turned Olympian collaborator who saw it through to the end. If the latter is true, it carries the theory that Zeus had an extra reason to swallow her at dinner; the first being the notification of his super genius/potential insurgent spawn growing in her belly.

Fear is so pervasive, isn't it? It hardens the hearts of mortals and distorts the principles of Gods.

The wind is cold against my skin, causing goosebumps and I shudder in my high neck summer dress. I check my watch and note that the glow-in-the-dark hand points at eight which means I have exactly twenty minutes to get my ass back home before mom does. _Shit. I'm late!_

Rising from my reclining position on the thick horizontal branch, I straighten myself and leap to the ground. Yanking my sling bag that dangles from a stubbed branch, I chuck two uneaten Twinkies, a water bottle, my sketch book, a flashlight and earphones and then, I slip the hardcover carefully inside a hidden pocket; Athena lent it to me under two conditions: 1) Demeter NEVER finds out. 2) I don't ruin it because Broken is banned all over the cosmos so it's nearly impossible to get another copy.

This forest garden is one of the few things I manage to hide from my mom: _Heart of Kore_. Yep, named it after myself; inspired by the little heart-shaped crease forming on the olive tree bark.

Other people get cities, islands and beachfront mansions as tributes… but I'm cool with nature. I worked single handedly on building my own sacred domain from scratch and no overpriced real estate can beat that. Plus, the project gave me freedom to develop what little powers I have, I'm still far weaker than the other Olympians. My spiritual aura hardly passes for a bloody goddess, it's THAT bad, but it used to be a lot worse - just like this place when I first stumbled upon it. Four years ago, the space looked almost barren except for a humongous, dying oak tree and a scrawny olive tree but looking at it now, you can't tell where one plant ends and the other begins. The forest ground is mostly covered with golden oreganos, verbenas and creeping thyme; colorful valerians, bellflowers, gladioli, peonies, hydrangeas, lilacs, and dahlias spring amongst grapevines and blueberry shrubs. The olive tree got fatter. I skipped out on the rest of the short tree/tall tree range so that my little fellas could get a bit of sunlight under the oak - my _favoritest_ place to hang out. The tree thrives in the center of it all; thick, heavy branches richly covered with resurrection ferns twist and curve all the way to the floor bed. Dark purple clematis blooms around the base and along the lower bark.

My turf.

Time reads 8:04. _Dammit_.

I sling my bag across my shoulder and make a run for it, through the deep grove that hides my secret. Exiting the woods, I check my watch again, ten minutes gone. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._ If mom finds out that I snuck out of the house, it'll be grilled eyeballs for dinner! _My eyeballs on a skewer._ I spot the crossroad and take my first step to run across it. Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires and furious honking came from the right side, and I whip my head around to find a pair of blinding headlights and the hood of a classic muscle car inches away from my body.

On impulse, I slam my fist on the black steel and shout to the driver whose face is difficult to see over the beams. "Your first time driving, asshole?"

I'm so tempted to flip the bird but restrain myself and dash over to the other side. I keep running until my house can be seen. Lady Demeter's rustic Sicilian villa stands on a hilltop, the walls are built out of maple brown stones with the typical Grecian porch leading to the entrance door and an array of lemon and red orange trees sprouting across the yard completes the pastoral look. I eye my watch once more as I sprint up the sidewalk. Eight fucking twenty.

 _Mom's gonna kill me!_

 _"Dreams of war, dreams of liars_

 _Dreams of dragon's fire_

 _And of things that will bite"_

 _\- Enter Sandman, Motorhead (Cover)-_

~ HADES ~

The bitch is oblivious.

I watch as she walks anxiously up the tiled driveway, her high heels click too loudly against the ground, she walks with her back straight and neck too stiff in a dress suit, her wheat blonde hair twisted into a single roll along her scalp. When she moves under a certain light, I'm reminded of our war times, Demeter always favored Corinthian brass helmets with silken plumes. We were on better terms back then; she developed an interest for combining witchcraft with harvesting and often dropped by the house I lived in during the war to conduct explosive, earthquake-triggering experiments with Hecate in my fucking basement. In our spare time, I taught her hand-to-hand combat. She wasn't a strong fighter but she was quick on her feet and kept on high alert, giving her the advantage of sensing and dodging attacks when it came. Zeus and Poseidon might have lusted after her, but Demeter was no more to me than a comrade and occasional pain in the ass.

She held big dreams, but couldn't achieve them. But not for one brief moment did I feel anything close to pity for her.

She's better off dead.

I watch, counting the seconds as she climbs the stairs, existing in oblivion. Demeter's slipping up. Then, she stops abruptly. I see the slightest tremble in her shoulders and I know she has finally sensed the heightened spiritual presence or rather my desire for her ichor. She spins around carefully, halting when she meets my glare, her brown eyes widening as she appraises me. "Hades…" she rasps.

That quiver in their voice. It's always there. They say my name like it's the cause of all the nightmares, the pain, the darkness that crushes light without mercy. I relish in it; the chaos that eats at their souls.

"You're not welcome here!" she shoots me a piercing look. "How'd you get-"

"Your security, Demeter, is a fucking joke."

"You… _you killed them_?!"

"Oh, they're not dead. Not yet." I say with a bit of humor. Given my reputation, it's natural that she would assume the worst.

Demeter peers down at the security post by the gate, craning her neck to see if the guards who saluted her entrance were still lingering there. But she wouldn't be able to see anyone. Sure, they're not dead, but I didn't say that they were doing fine either. "Leave! Leave now! Get out of my house!" she shouts frantically. Another guard comes running from the left side of the compound, perhaps alerted by Demeter's yelling, and goes to her side.

"If you fear me so much, you shouldn't have given me a reason to be here, Deme."

Letting her off once was a favor I gave Hestia, as it turns out I'm not too immune to fucking sentiments, but it's not a mistake I intend to repeat. As much as I desire to see the life fade out of her eyes, Demeter can't die because gods never do. Still, there's more than a million ways to render an immortal dormant, and that's a fate far worse than dying; the agony of the invincible soul writhing, combusting and regenerating to an indefinite cycle is unfathomable.

"Don't be ridiculous! I have done nothing wrong! But _you_ ," she stresses, "have been leeching off _my_ produce!"

Well, the bitch wouldn't take my fucking money. I give her a mild shrug. "You refused to sell it to me." But her farmers were more than willing to risk Demeter's wrath for a fat bank balance.

"Insufferable! So you resort to stealing?!" she retorts, climbing down the stairs. "Have you no shame?"

I ignore her. Instead, I pull a cigarette to my lips and light it, taking my time with a drag and exhaling the smoke through my nose. Demeter stares at me in disbelief, a hateful frown mars her forehead and her lips curl in disgust.

Seeing her distress, the guard charges towards me, wailing like a little bitch.

A sickening crack stills the air, his neck snaps, twisting his head all the way to his back. I observe as Demeter stands still in shock, her eyes turn as big as saucers as she watches his body hit the pavement. I stare at the corpse and his bloodshot eyes that appear to be bulging out of their sockets. It's a shame really; I would have liked it better if he'd realized the mistake he was making and run off for a bit before I fling my knife into the back of his skull and leave a mess for Demeter to curse at. That would have been more sporting.

"You insolent bastard!" she curses, and strides towards me, and in her anger forgetting how close she's put herself before me.

I take one more drag of my cigarette. "Release the shipments, Deme. We can talk business." This is the last chance I'm giving her.

"No! What I want is for you to rot in Tartarus!"

I drop the remaining butt and grind it with the heel of my boot. "Can't fault me for trying." I say and reach for my knife. Slowly, realization dawns on her face. I unsheathe the double-serrated blade and spin it around my palm.

I edge closer and her arm shoots out. The ground beneath my feet vibrates and cracks, chunks of dirt and sand is reduced to finer particles and lifted into the air to power a sand storm. Thick yellow dust surrounds me, spinning at a turbulent speed that was meant to drain the air. The more I wait, more soil is used for the attack, forming a deep crater.

 _Sand manipulation._

I run my hand through my hair with a smirk on my face. Impressive.

Demeter's powers extended to her abilities to command the earth and she's clearly gotten stronger with time. No doubt with guidance from Gaia as these are her tricks. But I'm the first born of Cronus and Rhea, I've tasted torture for the longest time in Tartarus. My old man, that cocksucker, thought locking up his fucking kids in damnation would secure his rule, he thought it would break us. What that piece of shit didn't see coming was the fight we had within us, the need to survive.

Tartarus didn't break me; it sparked a raging fire inside. A fire that wants to burn everything in its path.

The storm clears, and I see the change in Demeter's face, morphing from shock to disappointment and then, fear. Frankly, she shouldn't be too surprised that I'm standing unscathed. Demeter had seen me destroy Cronus' right-hand titan with nothing more than a boot lace. Her little sand-stint was about as intense as a razor cut.

"Hades -" she croaks. But I'm done listening. I grab her jaw, squeezing her cheeks; reducing her fake bravado to a fucking squeak.

"You've been a real pain in the ass, Demeter. Good riddance." I bid, spinning the blade one last time around my palm before ramming it down her throat.

Something shifts.

And I _almost_ didn't notice.

I look over at the end of the yard, following the small movement at my periphery.

Then I see _her_.

The girl from the crossroad.

The girl with fiery red hair and brown eyes… sneakily climbs up the wooden gate of the backyard. Strands of her long curls whip wildly behind her, revealing a pert nose and gorgeous full pink lips.

She leaps over the gate, a part of her oversized dress becomes stuck in the brush and as she maneuvers to untangle it I notice how the dress stretches over her luscious frame, her tits pushing out against the cloth. Perky, rounded and perfect.

A mixture of rage and lust stirs low in my gut.

"Don't." Demeter pipes, her voice nearly inaudible behind the force of my hand. Dragging my attention back to the fact that my blade is still raised and I haven't delivered her punishment. The plan quickly lost its appeal.

Putting away my blade, I study Demeter's features, picking up certain signs that were not there earlier. Her brown eyes slide back and forth between the girl and me, a tremor runs through her body. She's actually nervous. No, _afraid_.

I snap my focus back to the girl, a nymph, probably. She steps closer into the light and I savor the light bounce of her tits as she comes to a standstill. Up close, I suddenly realize just how fucking tiny she is, barely reaching my chest. Her eyes trail the length of my body, then the moment comes and her gaze locks with mine. A harmless move but it felt like she'd just slammed me with an uppercut. And I was wrong about it being brown. Her eyes, I mean. It's bottle green. The brightest fucking shade of green that I've ever seen, they are so soft and pure, so goddamn righteous.

My fucking cock springs to life.

She stares at me, wide eyed, her lips parting slightly, then her gaze falls on the dead body and I catch the faintest curse escape her lips.

"Mom!"

I glower at Demeter, then at her. _She_ can't be Demeter's kid. Her spiritual force is too feeble for a goddess; her pulse so faint. I can easily snuff her out. And for fuck's sake, Demeter would know better than to raise a daughter so defenseless.

"What are you doing?! Let my mother go!" she commands without an ounce of fear in her voice.

I notice her hand slowly reaching into her bag and fishing out her phone, her thumb furiously taps on the screen, before she presses down decisively on the surface. No, she's not Demeter's kid. She's a fucking liar.

"I said, let her go!" she glares, putting herself between Demeter and me. "Listen to me! You're hurting her!"

"Get inside!" Demeter chokes out.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Go!"

She holds her ground and claws at my arm. "Stop it! She can't breathe!"

She's such an easy thing to destroy…so tiny and powerless...completely in over her head. When I don't budge, she tries to shove at my chest but I grab both her wrists and yank her towards me, enjoying the feel of her tits crush tightly against my torso, soft and firm. No bra. Her cheeks are flush and she curls her fist to control her erratic pulse. She doesn't waver but she jerks her head back up, sticking out her chin; squaring her shoulders. Whether she realizes it or not, she's challenging me with her pose.

And it makes me want to fist my hand in her hair, bend her over the hood of my car and lick her pussy until she screams and come on my tongue. I want to feel her shatter, taste her coming undone.

I want to own it - that look - and crush it in my palm.

But first,

"Who sent you?"

 _"Don't want no sugar in my coffee_

 _It makes me mean, Lord, it makes me mean"_

 _\- No Sugar In My Coffee, Caught A Ghost -_

~ KORE ~

" _Sweetheart,_ " he leans closer, boring into me with his sharp, dark gray eyes. "I asked you a question."

The threat in his gaze taunts me. He stares at me with so much hatred, like I'm the reason for everything wrong in the cosmos.

I flick my attention towards my mother for a second. Relief washes over me when I see that her face has regained some color but she seems to have become oddly still on her feet. Paralyzed. Her limbs unmoving, her lips shut, her eyes begin to water and she warns me with her laser stare. She wants me to get inside the house but how could I even think to do such a thing? One of our guards is lying dead on the floor. My mom, the goddess who breathes life and nourishes the earth was suffocating, right here, on her own ground! Am I supposed to just turn my back and hide?

Closing my eyes, I try to calm my fearful heart, praying that he couldn't feel it jumping in my chest. Sweat begins to roll down the back of my neck, as I wait in anticipation for someone to respond to my call. Somehow, amidst seeing my mother restrained and a dead guard in our driveway, I managed to hit the panic button app in my phone. It's a signal for Olympus to stop tweeting, quit the bong and back us up with security!

Why is it taking so long? Where the heck are they?! I gulp down as a thought sinks into my mind.

I need to buy time.

 _You can do this. You can do this._ I draw in a breath and school my features. However, when I speak, my tone comes out shaky. "First you answer mine. Who are you?"

He cocks his head to the side, his menacing gaze roves over my features like he's trying to figure me out. If I thought he was huge from a distance, at such close proximity, I cannot even comprehend his build. Towering over me, his rough hands firm on my wrists, I feel like he could tear me apart with them. "Who do you think I am?"

My eyes skate over him, absorbing every detail. He's not from around here; I can tell that much from his appearance.

A myriad of colorful tattoos covers the back of his hands and fingers. His knuckles are wide, calloused. I spot several rings on his fingers, a thick, studded leather cord around his right wrist and a gold watch on his left. Underneath his leather jacket, he wears a black tee which skims perfectly over his strikingly tall, muscular frame and dark jeans that hang low on his hips.

His nose is a bit crooked, like it's been broken before. For some reason, it only makes him look more terrifying. His thick, dark hair cropped closely at the sides, leaving longer strands on top which he slicked back. The full beard on his face is about an inch long, seems soft and rather stylish. In his cool, gray gaze, there's a sinister vibe - a ruthless, dangerous current that lures you into an unknown darkness.

It's so difficult to figure him out. He's an enigma. Seeing how my mother reacts in his presence, and the way he uses his powers, I know he's of a higher command. For someone so powerful, how come I've never heard of him?

My lips run dry and I lick them nervously. His jaw hardens as his attention dips to my lips, abhorrence turning into something else. A gaze I'm not familiar with.

Something clicks to me right then. Suddenly, my body turns numb, a strange feeling claws from deep inside me and I hear myself whisper one word, "Aidoneus…"

I had no idea what I had just said, before I could even check myself, his grip tightens on my wrists, stinging pain shoots up my arms. He drags me to the side of the driveway and shoves me against the wall. Without warning, he pins both my hands above my head with one hand and moves the other to my throat, squeezing tight; sparing me just enough airway to breathe. His nostrils flaring as he glares down at me. "Who the fuck are you?" he demands. "How did you learn that name?"

"Fuck off! Let me go!" I hiss through gritted teeth; tears welling up in my eyes. From the spot where my mother stands, I hear her muffling desperately. Tears pour down my cheeks despite my attempts to quell them. But shit, I'm not going to cower. I need to stay strong. I need to focus.

"Who do you work for?"

Fuck all these questions. I don't know what he's talking about. When I don't reply, he grabs my hair and forces me to look him straight in the eye. Squeezing my neck a little harder, he kicks my legs apart and leans in between them, caging me in with his massive body. "You seem to have a habit of not answering me, sweetheart." He drawls with a prick of humor in his tone. Chills ripple down my body when his beard lightly grazes my cheek. "I'd hate to carve into your beautiful skin." His eyes are dark, cold, dangerous and devoid of sympathy.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about." I argue. Gods, it's so painful to talk. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end; I can hear the blood pounding in my ears.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" he growls, sending shivers up my spine. " _Aidoneus._ It's what you called me. Who taught you that name?"

"No one!" I say, gruffly. "Okay? No one! I didn't even realize what I said. It just came out of my mouth!"

The storm calms on his face. He releases me completely and steps back. Bracing myself against the wall, I cough and inhale deeply through my mouth.

If I thought the worst was over, I couldn't be more wrong.

The air around him crackles, growing dark and heavy. His mouth twists into a vicious sneer. Dark mist blows in from nowhere and envelops me. Immediately, my head starts hammering, my breaths coming out short and shallow. I feel too hot, like my body is starting to burn from the inside…it's excruciating. I want to scream but my mouth won't open. My tongue won't move. _What is he doing to me?_

"I've barely started, sweetheart."

His voice came to me like an echo, a dream. I clutch my hand on my chest, and collapse on my knees. _Please Moirai, send someone…_

"Name. Give me your name."

My eyelids drift shut and I keel over.

 _'Brother! Release her!'_ I hear a call. Faint but familiar. _Lady Hestia?_

Then, silence.

 _Was it a dream?_

"Your name." This time, I hear his voice right beside my ear. A cold, rough hand smoothes my hair back from my face. I muster all my energy to pry my eyes open.

"Kore," I rasp, "Kore Khthonia…"

Dark gray eyes gaze down at me.

Then, nothing.

* * *

 **PREPPY:** A difficult chapter to write, but I had fun nonetheless. How was it for you? Let me know in the review. _**[*Edited: 17 February 2018]**_

 **Footnotes:**

 _1\. 'In every tyrant's heart there springs in the end this poison, that he cannot trust a friend', is a quote derived from the Greek philosopher, Aeschylus._

 _2. **Mater Theon** means Mother of the Gods. A term commonly used for Rhea._

 _3. **Moirai** is an ancient term for the Fates._

 _4. **Blood or Ichor?** \- I use them interchangeably. **Ichor** is the fluid that runs in the veins of the Gods. It's often considered to be golden in color (in some accounts, a reddish pink, following the color of ambrosia), has magical qualities and regenerating abilities. In my writing, I rarely use 'ichor' and almost always stick with 'blood' even when referring a God's golden ones. ***About the color of ichor tho, I've edited it in the coming chapters. Not so pink ambrosia-ish but more red hue. I think it'll do better for when the characters blush and stuff.**_


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

 _"Treating people just like pawns in chess_

 _Wait 'til their judgment day comes"_

 _\- War Pigs, Black Sabbath -_

~ HADES ~

There is a knock on the door behind me. Undeterred, I hold back my knife and aim at the wooden slab mounted on the wall and swiftly fling the blade out, watching it impale the target, dead center.

"Come in," I say. The door opens soundlessly. I don't bother to look. I know it is Kanna. "Pour yourself a drink," I bid, nodding my head towards the bottle of bourbon on my desk. Skimming the selection of custom-made throwing knives on the leather case, I pull out a seven-inch blade and throw it at the target with a flick of my wrist.

I'm invincible with a knife. I love the precision, the elegance, the thrill. Sure, the bident is still my official weapon. I destroyed my own father with it, didn't I? It holds a special place in my heart. But with a knife I'm faster, more ruthless. Nothing says 'don't fuck with me' better than a slow blade through the cord. Not even a gun.

Unlike Kanna who favors it.

I turn on my heel and eye him. My attention dives straight to the large, thick envelope in his hand.

"Information on Kore Khthonia," he says, placing it onto my desk. "It's all in there."

A shot of adrenaline pulses through my body. I walk over to my desk, pour three fingers of bourbon and take a drink, suppressing the urge to open the envelope right away.

As usual, Kanna doesn't help himself to a glass. He has a rule about not drinking on the job. I round the table and take a seat on the leather chair; he remains standing, feet apart, hands behind his back. "She's the Goddess of Springtime. Demeter's only child, fathered by Zeus. Homeschooled. No record of her having been to Olympus. No affiliation to any Protogenos or Titan," he states. "The girl's clean."

I nod, glancing at the package and slide it towards me. Flipping open the envelope, I peer at its contents: a thick stack of papers and countless digital prints. I pull the written pieces, leaving the pictures for later. I want privacy for those. Scanning through the documents, I find details of her email exchanges, social media accounts, browsing history, daily activities, lists of acquaintances and background checks of frequent visitors amongst other things.

The intel work is notably thorough. With a shit load of money, you'd be amazed by what men would do and how far they'd go to meet your demands. I never cared for what means they took, so long as I got what I wanted, it didn't fucking matter. Information is everything to me but it needs to be precise, sharp and accurate. Like my blades. And if there were any conflicting facts, Kanna wouldn't waste my time with it, nor would he let the rat on our payroll get away.

But the intel still doesn't explain how she knew a name so bloody ancient, forgotten in time. Demeter obviously never told her about me. Who the fuck am I kidding? I suspect that her mother doesn't even remember it anymore. So where could she have learnt it?

"Is there something wrong, sir?" Kanna asks suddenly, his brows pull together.

"No," I say absently, looking back to the document in my hand. My person of interest has a secret hideout. I almost smiled to myself. I didn't expect that coming from Demeter's good little daughter.

"Should I ask him to get anything else?"

I shake my head, my eyes strangely captivated by her report. "No. Get rid of him."

I sense Kanna shift his weight, he pauses shortly before adding, "He's a damn good hacker, sir. No trail of dirt. Nothing that leads back to us."

"And yet, he lives on Demeter's soil. If he can bite the hands that feed him, it won't be long before he rats," I state. "A good hacker is a dime in a dozen, Kanna, but a traitor, regardless of which side he's on, will eventually become poison to us." He's in too deep, knows too much. At least with him dead, and in the Underworld, we'll have one less thing to worry about. Besides, I'm generous with my people. That is if he makes it through my judgment. Ironic, isn't it? That I should judge the man I manipulate.

"Yes, sir."

"His wife. Is she still around?"

If I hadn't known Kanna for centuries, I would have missed the way his posture stiffened for a brief moment.

"I don't have the intention of fucking her, Kanna." I assure him.

"They had just gotten back together," he pauses. "She's pregnant."

"It is always the ones with a family that asininely get involved with us, isn't it?" He could have said no. He could have stopped sooner. But he didn't. None of them do once the cash starts piling up. "See that she's taken care of. Set up a fund for the child under his name. Don't raise suspicion. At least the kid will grow up thinking old dad was a goddamn hero."

"And Lady Khthonia, sir?"

I look up at Kanna and raise my brows. "What about her?" I reach for my glass.

"Do you want me to bring her over?"

"Has it occurred to you that my interest in her may not be sexual?" I question, kicking back the last of my bourbon.

Kanna keeps a veneer of nonchalance, but I catch his head tilt.

The guy always threads carefully wherever he goes. It's one of those traits he picked up from being a dealer. The syndicate he worked for sold him out; told the cops about the stash in his car. Kanna would have served in juve had I not bailed him out. He's actually quite talented; developed a taste for sniping while other kids in high school were busy fucking around. That's how he went from dealer, to my right hand man. And later on, with a different gun, he became my tattoo artist. For a guy who's keen on inking skin, he keeps himself clean. Anyone who sees him for the first time would never assume that behind that handsome face, blue eyes and light blonde hair, there's a cold-blooded killer.

Kanna is about the only person I completely trust. He knows the value of loyalty. Unlike his father. Given a job, he does it without question. The guy would descend into Tartarus and gut my old man a hundred different ways if I ordered him to. Not once has he failed me. Just two months ago, he fucking blew up a restaurant in Thebes because the maître d' said we made the other diners uncomfortable. A bunch of vanilla cowards who shat their pants at the sight of our bloodied attire.

Now, if he knew what Kore said to me that night, he wouldn't have to think twice about waterboarding her for a confession.

 _Kore._

The Maiden.

Two fucking syllables.

Typical of Demeter to give her child a shit name.

Resting back in my seat, I look up at Kanna for a minute and run a hand over my head. "Let her be for now." My eyes move to the envelope. "Just handle our guy."

He gives me a sharp nod and leaves the office. A soft click follows as he closes the door.

I open the envelope and slowly push out the digital prints, filling my sight with colorful images. I pick up the first picture. It's a profile view of her sitting on a grass surrounded by flowers, reading a book. Blue flowers woven into her red hair. She almost looks too good to touch. Soft. Perfect. Too perfect. Taking my time, I go through more images of her.

Lightly tanned skin, brilliant green eyes… smoking hot body.

Damn, if only Leuce was around. She would be on her knees, between my legs, working dirty tricks with her tongue while I get through these pictures.

Another photograph captures my attention, compelling me to examine the image closely. In this one, she's standing alone in the rain, her soaked dress clinging to her curves. Her red hair appears darker, her lips pale. This time the camera catches her direct gaze, making it seem as though she's staring straight into the lens… and right at me. Her eyes are different this time, the purity I saw that night has melted away. A shard of darkness eclipses her radiant green irises, making her look raw and haunting.

A bit dangerous.

A strange ache crawls into my chest. I _know_ that look.

It's no reason for me to hate her but I do. All at once, I want to strangle her little throat. I want to tear that dress off her body, defile her pussy with my hungry cock and fill her with my hatred. I want to introduce her to my depraved, cold life. I want to make her hungry for release and burn that shell until all that is left is the real Kore.

 _The real Kore…_

I close my eyes and rub my forehead. What is she doing to me? She's seventeen for fuck's sake. The girl is too goddamn young.

Feeling exceptionally aggravated, I stuff the documents and the photographs back into the envelope and stash it in the side drawer of my desk. Slamming the wood with more force than intended. She's clean on the report but I realize now, it would have been easier if she wasn't. Because then, I'll know what to do. No need to waste time thinking about it. But seeing as she's no one's bitch, it leaves an unsolved mystery. There's no reason for doubt but I don't fucking trust her either. I have questions I want the answers to. In this mess, I'm clear about one thing.

Kore Khthonia is not all light, there's darkness in her.

 _"When the world shoves you around, you've just gotta stand up and shove back._

 _It's not like somebody's gonna save you if you start babbling excuses."_

 _\- Roronoa Zoro, One Piece -_

~ KORE ~

She comes at me again. I dodge to the right and tuck in my elbow before throwing out a punch at her rib. She spins deftly to the side, so fast I couldn't track her movements, and delivers a left hook to my shoulder. I'm down again for the fifth time, in less than three minutes. The crushing pain tears through my joints and I groan pitifully.

"Your whole body is a weapon but you rely too much on your fists." Athena states, peering down at me with her bright carnelian eyes. Here I am, lying flat on my back, coated in sweat and clenching my jaw to stop from howling in pain, she stands above me unperturbed. Her luxuriant, ebony curls gathered into a bun with a sleek fighter headband to keep bits of hair away from her face. Her smooth, russet brown skin glows under the warm sunset, giving her a robust appearance.

"You're too hasty, Kore. You left yourself wide open. Remember, your opponents are more likely to be taller, bigger and stronger than you. Focus on your footwork, keep your defenses up. Don't rush into it. When you see an opening, sync up your movements. Make every attack count."

She bends down and extends her toned right arm. I grasp it and push myself off the ground without applying too much pressure on my shoulder. My legs are starting to numb. A drop of sweat finds its way into my eyes, causing a mild sting. I shake my head to clear the haze and blink hard. "I want another go," I say, rolling back my shoulders, hissing as I do. Gods, the ache is unbearable.

A strident blow of a whistle came from the summer house. "I'm callin' it quits!" Artemis orders from the deck. "Oh no, you don't have a say, sister. That hit has definitely left a bruise. I'm not letting you go on another round. Do you want Demeter to see you like that?"

"She's right. Go treat your wounds," Athena says, eyeing the scrape on my bleeding knee. "We'll practice again next week."

Peering down at myself, I let out a long sigh. My shoes are dirty, there's a small tear on my pants where I hurt my knee, bits of grass sticking to my tank top with a couple of bruises starting to show on my arms. They're right. I better clean myself before mom arrives to send me home. She might change her mind if she sees me like this. After that horrendous incident I talked her into letting me take up martial arts. I guess if there's one good thing that came out of my blackout episode, it is the fact that my mother has finally agreed to let Athena train me in the art of self defense. It's been about a month since I started; although I know it will not do much if my opponent happens to be as powerful as that Asshole Aidoneus, I'm determined to take whatever chance I get at survival or die trying. Should the Moirai put me in that position again; end my fate under a stronger deity…I want to face it head on. Drilling my way through a fight, raising a bit of damnation before I go.

A quick shower and change of clothes did the trick. I look a lot less crappy. The bruise on my shoulder has reduced considerably, the gash on my knee completely healed, thanks to Apollo's special ointment which Artemis brought for me. It smells strongly of eucalyptus, ginger and clove but works wonders.

"How're you feeling?" Artemis queries as I make my way to the terrace that faces the clipped lawn; a fawn extends its neck towards her outstretched hand for a friendly stroke. On the white marble table, there's a plate of vegan grilled cheese, bananas and that awful tea that stinks like clogged fish-tank.

I plop onto the bench beside my sisters. "Muscles are still pretty sore but I'm much better. Thanks," I say as she turns around to pour me some tea. Her silky, straight silver hair drapes over her forehead, the occasional strands feathering her eyebrows. Artemis has always had this edgy pixie cut, loving the practicality of it, given her active lifestyle as protector of the wilderness and leader to a squadron of fearsome huntresses.

"Demeter called while you were in the shower. ETA fifteen minutes," Athena informs, hooking her thumb towards the small duffel bag. "We packed your stuff."

Taking a sip of tea, I smile appreciatively over the rim of my cup despite my taste buds begging me to spit out the foul drink.

"So listen…"

"Mmm...?"

Artemis skims her amber-yellow eyes thoughtfully, swapping glances with Athena before continuing. "Is everything… alright?"

My guard goes up instantly and I frown. _This is sudden._

"You seem tense." Athena says vigilantly when she sees my alarmed face. "Demeter giving you a hard time?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," I mutter casually, biting into the warm cheesy bread.

"Things are good at home then?" Artemis prompts, sliding her gaze to Athena who doesn't take her eyes off me.

Is this how a worm feels under a microscope? "Splendid. Social service can rest easy." I snort and take another bite, chewing as I ask, "Mmm…why the interrogation?"

"Last month, Olympus received a distress call," Athena states. "But it was disconnected by someone inside and we didn't know about it, until this morning. Iris ran a test on the software." Discomfort churns my gut. "So, we got her to track the IP and guess what?" The glint in her eyes makes me queasy, " _Your_ number came up."

I gasp too soon and the food lodges into my throat. Swiftly, I chug down the tea, partially thankful that I'm not spluttering. "About that…" I say, in between coughs and patting my chest. "Complete accident."

Artemis quirks her brow and Athena crosses her arms over her chest. "Spit it out, Kore." The huntress commands.

"Guys, it was nothing." I lie. "The alarm tripped off around our house. I thought someone broke in and hit the app without checking."

"And a week later, you started on intensive self-defense…because of a false alarm?"

 _Fates, these goddesses won't quit._

"There's a rumor going on around Olympus." Athena says. "The Sicilians have been allegedly trading behind Demeter's back for years."

I shrug my shoulders in a most innocent gesture. Temptation sits at the tip of my tongue but I resist. My mother warned me not to say anything; I won't be here if I didn't give her my word. But that doesn't mean I wasn't screaming a shit ton of questions on the inside.

"It's a matter of pride and we understand why she would keep it a secret." Artemis carries on, refilling my cup before I can stop her. "But we wanna make sure that you're not caught between anything…"

"Or anyone."Athena adds.

A glimpse of his face enters my thoughts again, sending a quiver through my body.

My sisters appear unaware of it. I exhale slowly, determined to push all thoughts about that night out of my mind. Gray eyes… For weeks I've been seeing those nefarious, damning gray eyes and they've been creeping up on me. And I don't mean it like an annoyingly catchy song you can't get out off your head. _This is different._

More appropriately, it feels like I've committed murder and stuffed a dead body in the basement. An unfamiliar twinge shoots up my heart whenever thoughts of him flashes through my mind. The vision is petrifying. He's always there in the back of my mind.

His eyes haunt me. In my dreams they are clearer, more defined and so real that I wake up in the night drenched in sweat, shaking to my bones. It's downright ridiculous how he's affecting me. I try to discipline myself and occupy my thoughts elsewhere but _he_ keeps demanding my attention. It makes me so angry!

If only I could shake some sense into my mother and have us talk about that dreadful event. But Demeter will only silence me on the matter. I'm told never to speak of it. But it's completely unfair. An asshole literally almost snuffed the living shit out of me! Don't I deserve some answers?! Seeking information on him proved useless, even browsing the top section of my mother's library - where the restricted materials are - came to a dead end. No one has written a word on Aidoneus.

 _It's like he doesn't even exist._

"Chill, you guys." I muster up a smile. "I'm a happy child."

"More like a Stepford child." Artemis murmurs.

My exasperated sigh follows her remark, bringing a short silence to the table.

"So, the luncheon is this Friday," Athena diverts. "Mom's given you the green light yet?"

My umpteenth invite to Olympus and this time, Lord Zeus personally requested for my attendance. The seventeen years I live on Enna, not once have I been to the home of the gods. "She hasn't said anything." I admit. "I don't think she'll let me go."

"Nah, I'm sure she will. Dad's orders." Artemis reassures. "You're gonna have fun, trust me. Hermes is the patron of the Hermaea festival. Expect a lot of bad pranks and boys who look like GQ cover models, since you're into that species. No judgment if you get to flirting. Oh and don't drink from the red cup, don't take anything anyone hands you." She pauses. The crease on her forehead deepens. "Actually, you know what…just stay miles away from the keg."

I raise a brow.

"It's not just booze in there." She clarifies. "Lady Amphitrite, Athena and I try to keep an eye out for everyone but last year-"

Athena clears her throat suddenly, warning Artemis.

"It was father." Athena finishes. "We couldn't stop it."

 _Ugh._ I cringe in disgust. My heart goes out to the victim, not only does she have to endure such devastating trauma but she couldn't possibly find justice at the end of it. Zeus is King of the Gods, he could rape a girl out in the open, in front of everyone…and not one person - not even Athena or Artemis - would say anything.

And this is why Demeter fucking hates the thought of me going up there. Her paranoia is justifiable when a person like this rules the cosmos.

 _'…forget all that has happened tonight, forget his face…but remember how you suffered in his hands… these gods, they're not to be trusted, Kore, even your father… they're bloody animals, every last one of them…'_

I woke up in my bed that night, my mother by my side cradling my hand in her palms. My fingers wet with her tears. A warm sensation spread over my body while a flaming force field covered us as Lady Hestia nursed me back to health. As I lay on the pillows, bruised, furious and weak as a kitten, I realize how much I hate being powerless and pathetic. Always relying on others to protect me. But no more. My motivation has never been clearer. I decided there and then, I'm going to work my way up and fight my own battles. So what if I drew the short end of the stick with my powers? I've still got a good, healthy body. I'll use it to get stronger.

And the next time I see that motherfucker Aidoneus?

I'm gonna bust his fucking balls.

* * *

 **PREPPY:** Churro e-juice is so addictive. *sigh* - Special thanks to Rebecca Lydia Vega for proofreading this chapter at odd hours - Time difference sucks.

 **Footnotes:**

 _1._ _ **Bident**_ _\- Two-pronged weapon that resembles a pitchfork (without the middle part)._

 _2._ _ **Protogenoi**_ _\- Generation of deities who ruled before the Titans, they take up the most basic, fundamental components of the universe. (e.g. Ananke, Protogenos of Inevitability & Necessity; Khronos, Protogenos of Eternal Time ***** ; Gaea, Protogenos of the Earth; Ouranos, Protogenos of the Sky, castrated by his Titan sons, Kronos, Iapetos, Krios, Hyperion and Koios) _

_3._ _ **Titan**_ _\- Progenies of the Protogenoi, they ruled before the Olympians came to power. (e.g. Iapetos, Titan of Mortality; Rhea, Titaness of Motherhood and Fertility; Kronos, Titan of Time)_

 _4._ _ **Hermaea**_ _\- It's a festival tribute to Hermes, the God of Messengers, Thieves, Athletes and etc; celebrated in the gymnasia or palaestrae (areas for athletics and physical activities), the participants of the festival put on their best clothes, offer sacrifices to the gods, and entertain themselves with games and sports. Mentioned in the Hymn to Hermes._

 _ ***** Khronos (Protogenos) not to be confused with Cronus (Titan), although they essentially the same. Khronos, is known to be incorporeal_ _, at times he's described as having the_ _form of a serpent with three heads - a bull, a man and a lion. In this fict, he is referred to abstractly like his consort, Ananke._


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

 _"Because maybe_

 _You're gonna be the one that saves me_

 _And after all_

 _You're my wonderwall"_

 _\- Wonderwall, Oasis -_

~ KORE ~

By the time we get home, the sky has turned dark leaving a streak of red in the horizon. While my mother and her high priestess proceed to the in-house shrine, I head straight for the kitchen enticed by the aroma of sautéed garlic, herbs and roast potatoes that wafts through the front door.

Our house staff are bustling around the kitchen; stuffing a tray of moussaka into the oven, emerging in and out from the walk-in pantry and setting up the dinner table. I drop my bag by the side wall and hop onto the island, trying not to snicker at Kyane who dances by the stove with her back to me, "What's cookin', sexy mama?"

She turns, rubbing her belly affectionately and beams, "I think it's gonna be a girl."

Over the loose tiered blouse, Kyane looks like she's barely showing but as she moves her hand, skimming the fabric to her body; her bump appears a lot rounder.

"Congratulations. But I was asking about the food." I quip, pointing at the simmering pot.

"Nice try, Lady Kore. You've lived in Sicily long enough to recognize the smell of pasta." She crosses her arms and cuts me off before I could argue. "Oh now. No reason for jealousy, you're not being replaced."

I roll my eyes.

"Let's give you something better to do," she suggests, pointing at bag of red bulbs on the countertop. "Help me chop these onions."

I bristle at her reprisal and hop off the island but I don't argue. While most of the household staff maintains a distance with me, Kyane has always treated me differently.

She used to be a priestess at my mother's temple that was until one of the river engineers saw her skinny dipping in the spring and fell in love with her. But it wasn't like the debauched, sordid tales you hear from Olympus; theirs was rather honest. She, a naiad from Syracuse hand-picked by Demeter to serve at the temple, to end up falling for a mortal who works for her Goddess, it wasn't easy for them. My mother was beyond livid when the news reached her ears and she stripped Kyane of her rank that very minute despite knowing that Kyane had honored her celibacy. _'Her heart is tainted_. _'_ My mother said. Had I not been attached to Kyane as a child, the lovers would have been exiled from Sicily.

Kyane never stepped foot into the temple again. She quit her tenancy in the neighborhood and moved downhill to live with her husband, Anapos. Still, her actions didn't ease Demeter's discontentment. My mother denied Anapos' plea for immortality and refuses to acknowledge Kyane's presence and her baby bump.

Time itself may have forgotten their offense but not Lady Demeter.

"So, tell me, how was practice?" She grabs a bowl of wild mushrooms off the counter and sprinkles them into the sauce.

"I suck so bad," I admit. "Athena isn't going easy on me. Not that I want her to, but it proves how weak I am."

"You're not weak." she states firmly. "Athena's powers and abilities were fully formed since birth. Can't measure up to that."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm behind my sisters at everything." _Ah crap._ The onions are starting to make me cry. I sniffle and rub my nose on the sleeve of my t-shirt.

The sauce begins to boil and Kyane gives it a final stir. Then, she signals me to go wash my hands and takes over. "Life isn't a race, Kore," she states. "We, each of us, have our own pace. There are no rules in this journey and that's what makes life so beautiful."

 _It was that thinking that nearly killed me, didn't it? I took it too easy._

I turn on the faucet and run my wrists beneath the cold water. It's a little trick that always helps me cool down.

Frowning, her blue eyes roam my face. "What's wrong, Kore?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired." Speaking of it now, my body feels sore.

Kyane raises her brow but I turn away casually and open the fridge. On the side shelf, there's a half-eaten Toblerone; unwrapping the silver foil, I break a triangle and pop it into my mouth. The whole time I'm aware that Kyane is watching me.

 _Please, please don't ask me anything._

'He tripped down the stairs'. That was the cover story for our dead guard. The injured ones swore to keep silent. News about an attack on home turf would definitely cause a rise of panic amongst my mother's staff and the people of Enna. If they find out that the goddess whom they rely on for protection was assaulted, it would shatter their confidence. My mother wants to avoid that and for once, I agree with her.

"Right. An early night for you then." She changes the subject. "I'll leave a glass of warm milk in your room after dinner. Make sure to drink it before you go to bed, okay?"

I smile to myself. She knows me too well.

"What should happen if you leave me, Kyane?"

"Good thing you'll never have to find out."

 _"Dans cette douce souffrance_

 _Dont j'ai payé toutes les offenses_

 _Écoute comme mon cœur est immense"_

 _-_ _Dernière Danse, Indila_ _-_

~ KORE ~

 _"Do you want to join them, Kore?"_

 _I look at children playing tag on the field. Shouting and laughing, chasing their friends. I shake my head. "No, mama." I want to but I shouldn't. I've made that mistake before. The game changes when I play. They won't run as fast, they won't laugh as hard, they won't shout. Everybody will try not to touch me and they'll make sure I win at the end. And that makes me miserable. Deep down, I know they are too._

 _After the last bend, I start running, my feet marking the soil._

 _"Slow down, Kore."_

 _I turn around and she's walking towards me. Too leisurely. Her blonde hair loosely falls to her waist. The hem of her skirt rippling in the wind. Her eyes, gold and brown, sometimes a little green, gleaming as she smiles at me. "Faster, mama! I want to see my altar!" My first one. Mama made it for me. I can't wait to see it._

 _Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that the children and adults wearing straw hats are kneeling on the ground, their hands raised in worship._

 _"Hagne Demeter!" The voices say. "Despoina! Anesidora! Matri!"_

 _My mother, their Goddess and Nurturer._

 _A girl holding a woven basket moves her chin up a little, stealing a glance at me. I smile at her but she looks down too quickly. I'm not sure if she saw me do that._

 _"Have patience, child," my mother says gently._

 _But my legs are humming with the need to sprint up the earthen stairs, to run along the lane that leads to her temple. I eye the hills lined with lush terraces. The wheat fields are on my side, stretching far into the village. A sea of golden stalks forming waves in the wind._

 _My mother extends her hand and I take it. There's a bit of dirt in her fingernails since this morning. I know that means she's been working the earth. We walk together, swaying our hands. Instead of going up to the temple, my mother makes a turn towards the bushes._

 _"Where are we going, mama?"_

 _"Just a little detour. We'll go up to the temple soon." She promises._

 _I fish out my Skittles and offer it to her. She picks a yellow one. I giggle when Mama kisses my hand. Her lips warm._

 _The smell of honeysuckle and roses envelops us as we walk further. "Are you happy, dear?" my mother asks suddenly._

 _"Yes."_

 _"Your sisters…they bring you stories from Olympus. They tell you about the cloud gatherer, your father," She breathes through her nose. "Zeus…do you miss him, Kore?"_

 _I have seen my father in the photos. But how can I miss someone I have not made friends with? I shake my head. "No."_

 _"Your father has arranged for me to meet the Moirai," she whispers even though no one is here. "To know what has plotted on the spines of Ananke. To read what is written on the tails of Khronos."_

 _Her words are difficult but I can sense that she's talking about my future. "Can I be a healer, mama, like Apollo? Artemis says he's the best."_

 _"Nature is entrusted in your hands, dear," She runs her fingers over the bushes. "Are the flowers boring you?"_

 _"I love my flowers." I say hurriedly. "But I also want to help the gods and save people."_

 _Her feet comes to a standstill, she gazes down at me thoughtfully. "By Gaia, you will. In your own way, as the child of Spring."_

 _I watch the tiny beauty mark on her chin. She kneels down and plucks a rose. White. Yet to unfurl its petals. Her fingers are gentle, taming my curls and she puts the flower in my hair. She's saying something but I can no longer hear her._

 _The scene changes._

 _I'm standing in a meadow. A cluster of pastel crocuses covers my ankles._

 _This place is familiar to me. When I was a child, I used to come here in the evenings so I could play with my nymph friends._

 _Ashen clouds blanket the sky. I swivel on my feet, taking in the view. Flowers of deeper shades sprout from the soil… foxgloves, violets, poppies, lilies. Cypress trees line the edge of the pasture. Trees that mask the scent of death. Trees that do not grow in this part of Enna._

 _Everything has changed._

 _My feet halt when I spot a woman kneeling with her back to me, by the irises. Black irises. I've never seen one before. I sense a strong aura, a confusing mixture of darkness and light radiating from her. The essence of a higher goddess. But she doesn't overwhelm me. I feel calm. The goddess has red hair like mine but several tones darker, some bits are braided and gathered into a low, messy chignon. A strange, ivory flower pinned to the side. Six petals. Spiky._

 _I was about to walk up to her when something brushes pass me. Someone._

 _A child._

 _He has on a pair hunting shorts but nothing to cover his body. His hair dark, his skin extremely pale with a hint of blue undertones. A black modern bow held in his left hand. A quiver hangs across his back, more than a dozen rope cutter arrowheads exposed at the mouth. But the ones he's carrying aren't crescent-shaped. It closely resembles a prong. The curve is deeper between the spears. Narrower. The weapon is serrated along the edges, the tips willow leaf spiraled. Sharp. Dangerous._

 _What sort of parents would let their child play with such a deadly device? But I realize instantly that his divine force matches hers. Not as powerful but pulsing firmly._

 _He sprints towards the goddess and throws himself against her back. He hugs her around the shoulders. "Mommy!" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his fist. "I caught this for you."_

 _"A grasshopper?" She chuckles._

 _He nods enthusiastically._

 _"It's beautiful. Thank you, baby." Her voice floats in the air. Silvery. Gentle. Easy. "Where's your shirt?"_

 _The boy shrugs._

 _"Tsk, you're shameless like your daddy."_

 _The arrows in his quiver rattle as he hops from one foot to another. "But daddy says I'm stubborn like you."_

 _I stifle a snort, lest they hear me._

 _"Did he now?" Threat rises inconspicuously in her tone. The steeliness in her voice commands my attention. "Is that why he took your sister and left you with me?"_

 _"Maybe." After a beat. "Totally."_

 _Something flickers in the air. I look up. Nothing._

 _The goddess laughs. "Well, too bad for them. I got us tickets to Icarusland."_

 _I can't see his expression but guessing by the silence… "Really?!" he asks, bouncing on his feet. "Are we going for real?"_

 _"Would I ever lie to my prince?"_

 _Another flicker. Bigger. Brighter. Gone._

 _He moves in front of her and buries his face in the crook of her neck. "You're the coolest, mommy!"_

 _"But never when I tell you to eat your greens?" she jokes, pulling him closer. "I love you, baby."_

 _I see once more. The flicker. A crackle behind the boy's head. Vanished._

 _What on earth…?_

 _The explosion of voltage and thunder that suddenly coursed through the sky made me jump. I look to the mother and son but they seem unaffected by it... like they didn't even notice._

 _A bolt of lightning strikes down holding too much energy, too blinding for a storm. It stops. Inches away from his skull._

 _Shit! "Move away! Hey!"_

 _Why isn't she moving?! Can't she see it?_

 _"Look up! Your son's in danger!"_

 _The lightning doesn't branch out like it normally would. The current flows in a controlled manner, in a constant trajectory, creating an arc. Behind the current I see the outline of an enormous object._

 _Oh God. It's a sickle._

 _"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"_

 _I'm running towards them. I'm shouting at them. The distance seems to grow between us._

 _The lightning corded sickle swings back. Fast. Like a pendulum._

 _"MOVE!" I scream with all my might._

 _It drops again._

 _The massive, charged tip surging towards him. Towards her. It will destroy them._

 _"NOOOOOOO!"_

 _The boy moves his head from the goddess' neck. His eyes meet mine. Black sclera. Gray irises._

 _He reaches out his right hand to me._

 _I'm desperately trying to catch it._

 _The vision warps. Mother and son, a swirling blur. Colors start to swim, closing in around me._

 _'It's too early you damned fool!' Out of nowhere, I hear a deep, orotund voice. 'Pull her out before they get to her!'_

 _'This is our only chance!' Another taut voice retorts. 'It's now or never. We need to bring her in.'_

 _'They're here, my lords!' Someone else speaks. 'We must leave!'_

 _The boy… What's happening?! I'm calling out to the voices but none of them are responding._

 _A cold hand swiftly covers my eyes. Not flesh, leather. "Sorry about that," A sultry, alluring voice croons beside me. "Gods of Erebus…they can be rather persistent."_

 _"The boy - the child. Did he make it?" I ask, frantic._

 _"When Ananke strums cords of Horae, you will have your answer. That chapter has yet to be written. For now, you must unsee what you have seen," I catch a whiff of iron and smoke, a soothing scent tickles my nose. "You must forget."_

 _Beneath the musky, lemony nuances of wood lies a sweet, floral essence like early days of spring that tranquilizes me. "What do you mean? Why?"_

 _Silence._

 _"I demand you tell me!"_

 _"Soteira," I sense hesitation. "Isn't it time you wake up?"_

A thunderous crash jolts me awake; I spring up on the bed causing my hair to curtain my face. My breath coming out choppy. Wiping my eyes, I push back the damp strands over my forehead. _Huh?_ Peeling back the covers, I feel my neck and back. My t-shirt sticking to my body from the perspiration. Why am I sweating so much? The room has automatic temperature control but tonight it feels stuffier than a hoarder's attic.

If I didn't know better, I would say I just had a nightmare. But if I did…I can't seem to recall it.

Yawning, I reach for my phone on the bedside table and glance at the time. It's two in the morning. I've been asleep for about five hours. The glass door leading to my balcony rattles once more as a tree branch strikes on the surface. Slipping off my bed, I open the door and walk to the railing, breathing in the chilly, quiet night. The branch from the tree towering next to my doors protrudes over the railing, the ends hitting on the clear glass. I run a finger along the hard bark, the branches recoils from my touch, coming to a rest on the balcony top.

I retrace my steps and was about to close the doors when a flame appears on my balcony. I frown at the floating material. A garnet makes the center engulfed by blue flames. Every part of my logic is telling me to shut the door and alert someone but curiosity is a deadly companion. Cautiously, I reach out a hand and touch it with the tip of my pointer. A blue tendril twines along my finger. Electrifying. Warm. Alive.

It tugs gently on my skin and I jerk my hand away. It moves to the side of the railing, by the branches. Against the shadows, I see the silhouette of a torch beneath the flame. Long. Ethereal. I should leave - step inside my room and go back to bed. But I'm not doing any of those. I can't look away from it. It seems so inviting. I can feel it waiting for me.

Against my better judgment, I run inside my room; grab the hoodie off the top of my chair and thrust my feet into my Adidas runners. Fed by the exhilaration coursing through my veins, I grab at a branch and step over the railing and onto another bark extending itself to pave the way for me. The flaming torch hangs in front, moving by the inches, guiding me. The branches twist and maneuver silently to catch my steps. The trees have been my constant resort whenever I choose to leave the house; I've studied every ridge, every bark. I know which limb to move and when. While using my powers, I'm careful not to attract any attention from the guards patrolling around the house. Fear takes root in my mind, but like some twisted psychology, I'm deriving a delicious sense of excitement from it.

The last branches jut over the maple brown walls. Heavy canopy concealing my presence in the shadows. I eye my room one last time while the fire floats before me, illuminating the pavement that is barely visible in the starless night.

 _Here we go._

I release branches and leap into the darkness below.

 _"Bear my gold_

 _Lay me in the shallows_

 _Evil comes if you call my name_

 _The wicked, they shall rise"_

 _\- The River, Blues Saraceno -_

~ HADES ~

The nymph emerges from the bar. A lean shadow stretches on the ground as she walks towards me, formed by the green and red neon sign lighting her back. She drops to a low curtsey.

"Seems busier than usual."

"Game's on tonight, my lord. The boys have money on the table."

As if on cue, we hear the patrons howling and cheering. This bar is one of the few bars on the third district that I frequent to have a drink and relax. Only the finest beers and cheeseburgers leave their counter and the owner over here occasionally helps her son to manage my orchard.

"Have you heard from her?"

She nods.

"Lady Nyx has reason to believe that it'll happen sooner than we expect," Gorgyra crosses her arms, her gaze lost on the dark waters of Acheron. "We must prepare."

"For six thousand years, I've been waiting," I say as a golden scepter solidifies in my hand, perched with an onyx falcon. "Let her come. I'll skin her alive and send her back to the Moirai. In pieces."

I stroke the black gem, and it lifts in a swirl of crystal dust, revealing a sickle beak, a pair of acute eyes, powerful talons and streaks of dark gray feathers. My raptor rouses and ruffles her plumes. She tips her head to me, seeking my permission. I raise my scepter. Beating her wings, she dives down and angles her flight, dipping her claws along the Acheron waters before soaring up to shadows that crafts the sky of Dis.

A ruthless predator that I have trained to hunt. _To kill._

Gorgyra flattens her lips. When I glance at her, she swiftly flits her eyes. "Forgive my insolence, Hades Stygeros," A sneer forms on my lips at her subtle castigation. "The one you speak of… she's _arete_ of the Makaron Nesoi, _eleos_ of Asphodel, _anaideia_ of Tartarus," She looks at me pleadingly. "She's the _Anassa_ of your empire, destined to rule with you."

Virtue of the Elysian. Mercy of Asphodel. Wrath of Tartarus.

 _So many useless words to mean one thing._

"Not with me. _After_ _me_." I say solemnly. "The court of Eubuleus hosts one throne, for _one_ ruler."

She'll have to take me down first before she can ascend my fucking kingdom. And I'm not as charitable when it comes to my authority as I am with my judgments. You don't simply fuck with what's mine and expect to get away.

"The Realm of the Shades is ever expanding, the Moirai should help… "

"To coexist?" I ask, amused. "I defied them once. Those old crones aren't going to be so accommodating this time."

My phone buzzes; I pull it out of my back pocket. _Kanna._

"I'll come by when Nyx returns."

"We'll be honored to have you, my king. As always." Gorgyra curtseys and walks back to the bar.

The phone buzzes again and I swipe to answer.

"Speak."

"She's here, sir," Kanna's even voice crackles. "Lady Khthonia... She's in my line of sight."

" _What?_ " I growl.

For such an innocent babe, that girl sure knows how to mangle about my business.

 _Kore, she's a fucking wildcard._

"I'm on my way."

* * *

 **PREPPY:** Thank you, **Tanya Katoch** (The Unknown Mystic, writer of Antithesis) and **Dolphin05** for the early feedback. _**[*Edited: 17 February 2018]**_

Queen & Tyrant is given a contemporary setting because I'm a lazy fuck.

The scene between Hades and Gorgyra is one of the rare instances where I'll incorporate ancient terms to show generational differences and a bit of aesthetics, I'll admit. I rely heavily on Theoi for guidance; unless I'm using another source then it will be stated in the footnote. Hesiod is one confusing fella… there are many variations to a myth. However, most of my explanations will be rather short for the time being. Hopefully, if I'm motivated enough, I'll try to post an extra chapter detailing them at the end of the fict.

Just know that Q&T carries new plot, warps timelines and alters existing myth; some which may not even make it.

As much as I like a good research since it's a gateway for wonderful exploration and possibilities (Not to mention, they grind that crap into you in freshman year), I do not possess the tenacity to keep at it. Besides, my skills are about as ludicrous as the press secretary's, so all attempts for a deep, enriching story just comes out looking like a horrible case of beer shit and that makes me want to step into traffic. Jesus, I do hope I'm getting better even if it's only by a smidgen.

In respect to that, I encourage you, my deities, to be critical af in your reviews. _Ah yes, I'm shameless. Did I forget to mention?_

For every reader, review, favorite and follower this story gets, thank you.

 **Footnotes:**

 _1._ _ **Anapos -**_ _Sicilian River god, one who seduces Kyane, in some versions of the myth he's said to be her parent. But I've made alterations to his identity as a mortal man._

 _2._ _ **Hagne -**_ _Holy_

 _3._ _ **Despoina**_ _ **-** Ruling Goddess._

 _4._ _ **Anesidora -**_ _She who sends forth gifts. Title used for both Demeter and Gaia._

 _5._ _ **Matri -**_ _Sicilian for mother._

 _6._ _ **Horae**_ _ **-**_ _The three goddesses of the_ _seasons and natural order of time, daughters of Zeus and Themis (in other accounts, Nyx is creator), they function similarly like their counterparts, the Moirai. For both the Moirai and Horae, I'm retaining Zeus and Themis as parents. ***Maybe not. I might give the Moirai a different origin story in the impending chapters.**_

 _7._ _ **Soteira -**_ _Savior._

 _8._ _ **Anassa**_ _ **-**_ _Greek for Queen. [Source: Women's History and Ancient History by Sarah B. Pomeroy, 2014]_

 _9._ _ **Arete -**_ _Daimona of virtue, excellence and valor._

 _10._ _ **Eleos**_ _ **-**_ _Daimona of compassion and mercy._

 _11._ _ **Anaideia**_ _ **-**_ _Daimona of ruthlessness and unforgivingness. They are mentioned abstractly._

 _12._ _ **Makaron Nesoi**_ _or_ _ **Nesoi Makaron**_ _ **-**_ _Refers to the Isles of the Blessed, otherwise known as the Elysian Fields. It's a concept that exists in Theogony, although there are multiple descriptions to the location/appearance/creation of the 'blessed island'. However, in most accounts, Makaron Nesoi alludes to the Elysian Plains in Khthonia/Underworld. Also, it'll make an effective back story for Macaria… just saying…_

 _13._ _ **Stygeros -**_ _the Stygian, of the Styx. According to Hesiod, Styx has the greatest eminence; a god who takes an oath by Styx would need to have Iris fetch the water from said river, and then declare their oath as the water is poured out. In this aspect, the river is seen as a formidable, unrelenting entity. Sounds pretty awesome, right? Yet, Styx is the river of hatred, related to the verb 'stugeo' - to hate, to abhor. So the epithet could also mean 'vile' or 'hateful'. Take your pick._


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

 _"Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan  
It's got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home"_

 _\- When the Levee Breaks, Led Zeppelin -_

~ HADES ~

"Kill her."

The drakon stares at me with a stunned expression.

"Go ahead," I urge. "Kill her."

He presses his razor sharp tail more forcefully to her neck and shields himself behind her, using her body as leverage. A slither of blood runs down her neck but he doesn't notice. Honestly, these are the bastards I'd like to hang under that motherfucking bridge. Leave it to the crows to peck at his rotting flesh.

With that thought in mind, I fish a cigarette from my gold case and place it in my mouth. "What's stopping you, Python?" I strike the match along the side of the wooden crate and light the cigarette; silently noting how she keeps her head turned slightly to the side, red hair covering her face, eyes lowered, _is she planning something or avoiding having to look at me?_ I observe the fresh split at the corner of her lips highlighted by the bright lamps hanging from the rafters.

A bizarre sort of rage simmers inside me. Python will have it returned to him in tenfold.

Grinding his jaw, the drakon scrunches his scaly forehead at my indifference. He doesn't buy it. But he wanted to see for himself so he stares into my eyes, narrowing the slits in his yellow eyes. _Drakon's glare._ Even gods have a hard time eluding it. It has the power to catch a glimpse of your sights and fantasies. I, for one, couldn't bother to divert it. Confidence returns in his stance, and I know that he's seen mine.

Yellow fangs drop as he sneers. "Ya sure 'bout that? Don' wanna check out how close she is to wha' ya got in ya head?" he hisses, flicking his forked tongue along her jawline. "S-soft...wet and sweet...," he slides his arm lower to the inside of her thighs and she thrashes in disgust. I bite back the unexpected bloodthirst soaring up my veins. His act has its intended effect. "Ya'd lemme kill this lil' cunt?"

Let a lowlife, cruddy bastard finish her off? _Here's one with ambition._

I give nothing away but smile at his desire to provoke me, leaving him too clueless to figure out that he's lost everything. "Huh." I say as I tap the cigarette ash onto the floor strewn with loose hay. "Echidna thinks her son has a good head on his shoulders but you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground."

Python frowns, unsure of how to take that comment. Skepticism turning into anxiety. "Wha' about my mammy? Spawns of Arimaspoi and Kimmeroi are rottin' cause of me." He shouts, recounting the tribes who held the ground open for Zeus to imprison Typhoeus. "I raped the wives of shiteaters who betrayed em! Corruptin' the seeds in their womb. Me the s-son, the perfect revenge. Wha' could devastate her?!"

I puff on my cigarette, slowly blowing the smoke, in no rush to answer him. Until _she_ steals a look at my tool belt casing a gun, rope and several combat knives. _What would you like me to do, sweetheart?_

"Guess ya really don' want this bitch then," Python declares when his phone rings, breaking the threat. _Ah, my soldiers...always on time._ I had to keep the smirk to myself, at least until I've seen his expression.

He frowns at me suspiciously but the cock didn't pick up despite the deafening silence on the cattle ranch doubling as a front for his money laundering scheme. It is at moments like this that you can distinguish a true leader. A smart one would know to check on the stat. Provide assurance and cover for the team. Not Python. He'd bail on them to save his own fucking ass. The ringtone stops before starting again. With my depleting patience, I contemplate flicking my knife between his eyes. "Answer the fucking phone before I blow it through your chest."

He fumbles through his chest pocket. Halfway through the hasty, angry exchange, Python pauses, open mouthed, and the phone drops to the floor. News of his getaway chopper getting shot down by a bazooka should do it. "I paid em in full." He squeaks; sounding like the naive puppet that he really is.

"I paid them more."

"Who are you?" he demands feebly and staggers back, ignorant to his needle-like tail piercing deeper into her throat. A deep, strangled gasp leaves her and I almost move to crush his tail beneath my boot. Python has no respect for pain, or how to inflict it...how intensely and to whom.

I flip open my cigarette case, pull another fresh stick and light the end. "You overestimated your power, boy."

Kanna's covert mission entailed the assassination of a drakon kingpin. It's a one-man job. To an expert marksman like him the hit is a fuck lot easier than bedding his feisty old flame. As the saying goes, cut the head of the snake and the tail will die. Though this time, Kanna had to do it from a close range with a furtive jab to stop the heart. A rather merciful option I would say. Otherwise it's a fucking headshot. But dropping shells isn't an option. I've decided that Python's rule had to end and I gave no fucks whether the Moirai acquiesced to it or not. Smuggling stolen antiques, firearms and shit ton of coke was one thing but he's been taking kids off the streets, using them to move items within and outside the cartel. And, I'd be damned if I had to receive another batch of mutilated, raped, bullet-ridden brats into my kingdom when they should be out here fucking up the living. Only problem is Python's been using his base on the province to run his business recently and it's too late to drop hints to Demeter. Any information divulged at this point would be seen as conspiracy. With the Underworld in such a tight situation, it's top priority to keep this job under wraps. Needles are cleaner and, with a venom so lethal yet virtually undetectable in the autopsy, it's good for staying off the radar.

Also, Kanna does a fine cleanup.

If only.

 _Demeter's kid isn't my problem._ That's what I told myself. My plate's full and she's a distraction I don't need. So long as she doesn't go expiring, the rule was to keep my goddamn hands off her. But that went to shit when I turned into a full-blown takedown the moment Kore Khthonia sprinted – unarmed – into the drakon's nest. Risking our identity to rescue her is a lesser liability compared to Demeter ever receiving word that her daughter was harmed. That bitch won't leave a single stone unturned and I can't be implicated in that.

 _How is this redhead single-handedly fucking up my game plan?_

Looking more delicate now in the face of bloody violence. Her jacket is open at the front, revealing a light tank that fits snugly over her tiny waist and ample tits. I gaze at her full hips covered in those tiny pajama shorts, then lower, at her bare legs with soft curves that I want to run my lips over. Her eyes are fixed on the dusty floor, arms subservient by her side. I wondered for a moment if I had mistaken what I saw through her image. Maybe it wasn't a reflection of darkness. "Couldn't pick a better hostage, Python? This one's weak. Worthless." I set the bait, staring at her without emotion.

She doesn't flinch as I expect but straightens her head and stares right at me with her bright green eyes blazing with courage. She's no stranger to fear but she's trying to hide it. I catch it through the quiver in her soft, juicy lips. _And fuck, I want to bite them._ Instead, I nip on the cigarette and take a longer drag. With each passing second, her anger turning to rage. I raise my brow, distinctly turned on by her strength. And I can't help wanting to pin her down and make her watch as I fuck her face until she gagged.

"You're no different, Aidoneus," Somehow the sound of my name rolling off her lips makes my dick twitch. "Forgotten whose land you're standing on?"

 _No. In fact, I was counting on it._

She leans part of her shoulder back which Python mistakes for surrender. The feel of her supple, petite body rubbing against him must have done it because I catch the lust in his eyes. The distraction proved useful to her as Python misses the way she shifts her stance.

In a swift movement, she yanks his tail, swivels around and elbows him in the nose. _Not hard enough._ He recovers fast and hits her chest, throwing her down. Kore scrambles up as he starts flailing his tail. Eyeing another attack, she dives left. _Too close._ With a subtle trick, I pull her back further than she would have landed. Python rushes forward, whipping his tail under her feet. Pain is getting in her way and it shows as she dodges a beat too late, almost tripping. He lashes again, not as fast and then once more. Kore barely escapes them. But any experienced fighter can see that he's wringing her before going in for the kill. Her movements are too explicit, predictable. Seconds in and she's slowing down. I straighten up and flick the last bit of my cigarette. Ready to end this.

"Not yet," she whispers, pulling herself up as though she knows what I'm up to. "I'm not done." Gripping her palm on the wooden pillar, she whispers something under her breath.

I give it a minute, watching her sway her right hand, twirl her fingers gracefully. An oddly fascinating act to see in the midst of combat. A faint rustling sound catches my attention and I sense rapid movement on the outer side of the wall behind her opponent. Python does too and attempts to grab her. Concurrently, a geyser of leafy vines bursts through windows. Green tendrils surge towards the drakon. Mesh of thread-like plant instantly coils around his body, limiting his movements; allowing Kore to throw a straight punch to his windpipe. _Chlorokinetic combat._

 _Interesting._

"Y'gonna regret this bitch!" he spits.

"Come on then asshole!" she yells out.

She has guts. I'll give her that.

I read into the tremor in her hands. Bits of leaves are falling off the vines, the bonds loosening. Her powers are waning. She can't hold them for long. Still, the girl's got that spark in her as though everything is going to work out in her favor. But it's not going to.

 _"I see that look in your eyes_

 _It makes me go blind_

 _Cut me deep, these secrets and lies_

 _Storm in the quiet"_

 _\- Madness, Ruelle -_

~ KORE ~

 _Shit. My hands won't stop trembling._

My powers are about to fail me and I'm desperately trying to hold on to them. _Dammit._ I did not spend all that time biting back my fight while this freaking drakon humiliated me for nothing. Calling for my powers whilst I'm boxed in this barn took me a lot longer than I expected. To channel my commands while I'm haven't had much practice is tough.

I am in uncharted territory with this technique. A new discovery that I stumbled upon on my own. I've barely had time to experiment with it, learn the ways and grow its potential. But it'll have to do for now. I don't have a choice. Sucking in a deep breath, I will the vines to keep their form but they're slipping away. Flaking. Unwilling to heed me. _Please, just a bit more._

A slow snarl spread across Python's face and he tears out of my cocoon like butter. "Ya dead girlie," he growls as he charges towards me, thirsting for my blood. There's nothing left in me. My muscles are heavy…I can't even hold my ground. Supporting myself against the pillar, I curl my hands into fists. I barely have time to compute when Aidoneus swoops into action and smashes his fist into Python's side with guttural force, slamming him onto the floor and twisting his arm from his shoulders while stepping on the back to keep the drakon down. The sheer formidable speed, strength and agility in him took my breath away. _He's a warrior._ Possessing the same grace I've seen Athena display in combat except he's a combination of refined skills and rugged execution.

But how did he get here? When I was trailing after one of Python's men, I could have sworn no one was behind me. I'm dead sure because I kept looking back.

 _Who_ _is he?_

I sense no spiritual essence emanating from him. Same as last time. No beat, wave or pulse of any kind. _Is he not an Immortal? Impossible. His powers are too superior to qualify for anything less._

"See this?" Aidoneus says, shaking a vial of liquid. "It's called aconite or _akoniton_ in old tongue. _Lykoktonon_ to traditional wolf hunters. They paint the tip of their arrows with this and watch the prey from a distance. Writhing, foaming at the mouth. One shot is all it takes. Would you believe this came from my dog's spit? Same mutt Echidna bore. I felt it'd be suitable for you." A trickle of humor pours from his voice. "Death out of your own brother's jaws. Ironic, no?"

"Tha' three-headed..." Python falters, a suffocated noise rises at the back of his throat. "Y-y-you're...t-the... _Zophon_..." Fearful stammering follows as Python suddenly realizes who Aidoneus is and I'm growing restless with curiosity. "P-p-please 'ave m-mercy! I'll give anytin', my Lord," He pleads. "M-money? Pussy? Y-y-young ones. Trained to fuck...fit for breedin'...'ave em. Take it all!"

 _The children I saw caged in the dirt...is this what he does with them?_ _Gods, I feel sick._

"This is your end, Python. I doubt even my judges are willing to allow atonement. But first, you meet my girls. They've been waiting," Aidoneus' voice flat. "Tisiphone, especially. She's eager to play with you."

 _Tisiphone...what is it about that name that floods me with dread?_

"Look away, sweetheart." He orders me, pulling a knife from his belt. I'm rooted in fear. He can't be serious... "No..." _Not this! Put Python on trial. Anything. I don't want this!_

Python puts up a struggle and Aidoneus ruthlessly slams his boot down on the drakon's shoulder. A sick crack echoes Python's agonized wail.

"Stop it!" I scream, shaking my head. Biting my lower lip to hide my horror. "Y-you can't -"

"Look away, Kore!" he roars and I jump. His thunderous voice rattles me to my bones.

"You can't kill him!"

Aidoneus lunges at me as I step back and grabs my waist. "That's not for you to decide." He searches my face and spins me around. His breath cold on my neck. "Close your eyes, sweetheart."

I comply. I do it because I can't bear to watch. But what I hear is paralyzing. _Slash. Slash. Slash._ Blood spurting. _Stab._ Complete silence. I turn around, my body moving faster than my brain can protest. I see thick black smoke engulfing Python's body; I see the knife struck deep into his eye socket before the shadow swallows him whole and I throw up all over the floor. I feel a pair of hands pull me up against solid, hard muscles. In my state of shock, I don't resist. My cheek rests on soft black leather jacket. _His body._

"What the FUCK?" I scream, pushing him away like I've been scalded. Aidoneus is unmoved. I can't believe it. Python was a disgusting, cruel dipshit and he deserved torment for what he did but how could Aidoneus be so unaffected?! "You killed him! You fucking _killed_ him!"

I scream at him with all the hatred in my heart. For the briefest second, an odd emotion flashes through his gray depths. Piercing. Raw. It's fleeting but I saw it. With his hands on my hips, he pins my body against the wall. "What are you doing!" I yell as he yanks my wrists behind my back and ties them with the rope. Next thing I know, my feet are off the ground and I'm tossed over his shoulder. I start kicking as if my life depends on it but he simply holds me tight and walks out of the barn. A second later, I sense a cold bite beside my waist and I realize that he's got something around his head. I stretch my neck but it's difficult to see what he has on.

"Where are you taking me?!"

 _"TEN: It's weird. I mean, you're not special, you're not powerful, you're not connected, you're not clever, you're not important._

 _DONNA: This friend of yours. Just before she left, did she punch you in the face?"_

 _\- The Runaway Bride, Doctor Who -_

~ KORE ~

Aidoneus leans forward and cups my face in his hands. Goosebumps meander over my thighs from the cold metal hood of the black jeep. I try to twist away from him but he yanks me back to face him. "Do you want to know what exactly happens to people who try to fool me, who cross me?"

 _No._ I never want to know. Because, with him, death would be the ultimate endpoint. I stare at his scuffed boots to buy myself time. But when he steps closer I start to panic. "Untie me!" I squirm underneath him. Feeling smaller and weaker in his grip. His whole body crowding, overpowering me. The black t-shirt skims over the tight cord of his muscles. Every defense I've learned over the month replaying in a jumble of scenes in my head…I'm assessing the best moves to pull but he's so built. Tall. Jacked. _How do I survive this?_

Digging his fingers into my jaw, he pulls my chin up. "Why are you here?"

I have no logical explanation to offer and the truth would probably get me killed faster than Python did. "Untie me, please." I plead and drag in a breath when he shows no signs of obliging. "Untie me and I will tell you everything." I say at last.

Aidoneus wraps his hand around my throat and holds my head back with the other, scanning my face for a tell. "Lie to me and I'll finish what I started the other night," He taunts, releasing me from his grasp. I'm not sure if he's testing me but I choose to stare back at him. Afraid that if I'm the first to look away he'll know. _If I speak the truth would he believe me?_

Standing flush between my thighs, he brings his knife to my back. I hold my breath when my gaze drops at the sight of the bulging erection beneath his dark jeans. Is he getting off on this...my fear? Stark gray eyes pierce through me as he inches closer until we're breathing the same air. "Make any unnecessary move and I _will_ slit your throat. Clear?" Swallowing my terror, I give him a nod. Leather jacket. T-shirt. Jeans. Black. I suspect he'd probably like it better if I disobeyed. Giving him a reason to spill more blood.

 _Immortals are deathless._ I remind myself.

Once he releases my bonds, I rub my wrists to sooth the burn. Hyper aware of the intimate distance between us. "My boyfriend," I say for a start, keeping my voice even; pretending to examine the skin below my palm to avoid looking at him as I spin my story. Deciding to give him half the truth. "I was returning from his place when I stumbled on one of the boys and he asked for my help." I glance towards the large group of children currently being tended to by a couple of men and women whom I conclude are Aidoneus' army. They are hard at work, rounding up the wounded and handcuffed members of Python's syndicate, barking orders down the walkie talkie and handing out blankets and hot pockets to the grubby faced, frail looking children. I don't know what it is that Aidoneus does, but I can tell that the children are in better hands.

"Your boyfriend?" He trails a finger over the stinging bruise at the side of my mouth, down the side of my neck and collarbone slowly, gently. I'll admit, I didn't see this coming given the times I've witnessed his brutality. The time he tortured me. But here it is…gentleness. One that I expect would turn deadly if he catches on.

"Yes." I breathe out carefully.

"On your own? In the dead of the night?"

"My mother..." I tamper down the rising tension that comes with his line of questioning. "She wouldn't approve of our relationship."

"What were you doing?"

I can't decipher his tone. I don't know what he's thinking but I also didn't dare to look at him. I barely register his right palm circling my wrist, his finger resting on my pulse. "What any lover would do..." I settle for a vague response. His breath skates over my ear as he angles his head to the side and boxes me in with his arms. This only makes my heart beat faster and when I catch the subtle scent of smoke and liquor in his breath, making my toes curl. Heat radiates off my skin. Though I'm not sure why.

"Did you fuck him?"

I gasp when he said it. The way he said the word _fuck_ sent a rush of wetness into my panties. I should be furious, enraged, I know but I couldn't stop it. And I hate that he brought such a reaction to my body. _Stop it, Kore. He's a murderer. A ruthless, despicable monster!_ I turn my eyes to his direction and my lips become dry. The look in his gray eyes, deep, longing…like hunger. One blink and it's gone. Replaced by the same expression he wore the other night. Like he hates me with all the force of the universe.

What comes out of my mouth next surprises me. "And if I did, what's it to you?" I forge on, keeping a straight face. _I need to get out of this. I must._

He smiles out of the corner of his mouth. Brushing my hair back from my shoulders, he gathers it in his fist. "You should see the way you're looking at me now." His eyes roam down my neck and I feel his calloused, tattooed knuckles tracing his gaze. He dips a roughened finger into the v-shaped neckline of my tank top, slowly pushing down between my breasts and up over the rounded curves. "You don't want to cross me, Kore."

"I don't." My breath comes out in a shudder. My breasts are tight and my nipples hard from his teasing. The fact that he notices makes me shy and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to pull myself together. _I've never known true hatred until he came into my life so why am I reacting this way?!_ He's unforgivable. This is what he does. He bullies and tortures and kills. "I don't care about you. I just want to go home. I've told you everything." I say, feeling angrier at myself.

"I don't trust you, sweetheart."

"I know." _I don't trust you either._

He arches a brow at me, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But I won't let you go until you've proven yourself. Quite a few people were on his payroll; how do I know you're not one of them?"

"I'm not." Fact that he is lumping me with those men irks me. I exhale sharply and stare back at him in annoyance. Like it or not, my survival is his decision to make. "Look. I can't help you there. You fucking killed him remember? If you want to know so badly why don't you go find his shade? And while you're at it please do us both a favor. Get lost in the Underworld! I'll be sure to pray to the Lord below to keep you." _Dammit._ The unspoken rule. I shouldn't invoke the King of Tartarus. Part of me hopes that God residing there didn't hear it.

Aidoneus bursts out laughing. A thunderous, full on, genuine laugh. Even his eyes are watering. Watching him like this shocks the living shit out of me. "Ah, sweetheart… you really enjoy pushing your luck with me don't you?"

I purse my lips and glare at him. "Is that what you think? That I enjoy being pushed around? Threatened by you?" I argue as my eyes begin to water for a reason much different than his. As if I'm not insignificant enough to the world, he had to drop right into my life and shove the truth in my face.

The shutters come back down draining the amusement from his face. I let my eyes roam over his stern features, forcing aside my pride and pleading with him silently to let go me. I'll fast and weave a thousand prayers to the Moirai to never to cross paths with him again. He looks at me dead in the eyes without remorse or kindness. Nothing that I can reason with… "How am I supposed to prove to you that I'm innocent of this?"

"A kiss."

I blanch at his words but quickly regain my composure. _He wants... a kiss?_ "And that should help prove my innocence how?"

"I have my ways."

I look at him longer, trying to play it off. All hope dies in me when his face remains unrelenting. I had allowed myself to believe that he was toying with me. But no. Aidoneus is completely serious. My heart beats so loud and fast I am sure he could hear it already. Could a kiss be any worse than torture? But my first kiss from someone like him? What choice do I have?

I close my eyes in despair and ready myself. If this is how it has to be at least I could spare myself from watching it happen. "Fine. One kiss." I whisper my consent blocking out the tears that's on the verge of pouring out of me.

He doesn't touch me for a minute and I open my eyes wondering if he's changed his mind. Once I do he tips my chin, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb. Aidoneus leans in above me running his nose across my jaw, taking his time. Each passing second calming my body. Feeling his soft lips skate over my cheek, my eyelids drift shut and all thoughts leave me. The teasing friction of his beard against my face made me warm and strangely, I want to reach out and stroke his face. He cups my face in his hands and presses his lips against mine. He's softer than I thought he would be. He runs his tongue across the seam of my lips and I let out an involuntary moan, immediately ashamed by it. But Aidoneus doesn't pull back. He snakes his arm around my waist, hauling me closer. His erection pressing up against me, hard like rock, separated only by his jeans and my shorts. He grinds himself against me as he captures my lower lip between his teeth, sucking and tugging. Gently at first, then harder until I feel a fresh sting as he bites down on me. I hiss at the pain and grab the front of his shirt like a depraved person. He groans as he licks the blood from my lips.

The sound he made that triggers a foreign emotion in me, making my heart yearn for more. I've never experienced such a feeling before. Desire. Possessing my body, making me draw him deeper. He kisses me harder and I melt into him. My hands are in his hair. His huge palm cups me through my shorts, sending tingles up my body as he rubs me. Another moan escapes my lips, catching me in place and my eyes shoot open.

 _Holy Fates, what the fuck am I doing?_

This is the same man who terrorized the house of Demeter, who used his powers on me. _How did I forget so soon? Is this all it takes? One kiss, one touch and I fold like a cheap tent?_ _How dare I let him get so far?_ I place my palms on his shoulder about to push him away when someone clears their throat and we break from the kiss.

I'm still reeling from the shock while Aidoneus pulls back and runs his hand through his hair. I don't miss the wild look in his eyes.

"Forgive me, sir." A man says. Blond with blue eyes. Dressed in a long sleeve turtle neck, black leather gloves, a long scoped rifle in one hand and a balaclava in the other. "We have a situation down with the team. They caught another guy." He spares me a brief glance. Whatever he has to say, he doesn't want to say it in front of me.

"The hacker?" Aidoneus supplies and the blond gives a nod. Aidoneus' eyes turn dim as he stares back to me. "Bring him here."

Wrapping my hoodie tighter, I cross my arms to cover my breasts. "So, you've had what you wanted." I lick the soreness of my lips, drawing his attention back to them. "Can I leave now?" I approach the subject like I'm on a tightrope.

He nods. I jump from the hood of the vehicle and spare him a glance before edging past his massive frame. Hardly a couple of steps down, I halt. The blond man returns and with him a face, bleeding so profusely I couldn't recognize it at first. Then, it was all too familiar. Hands bound at the back, blackening bruise on his cheekbone, eyes red and puffy. "What is the meaning of this?" I whip around to find Aidoneus leaning back against the jeep, ankles crossed, hands in his pocket.

"O, Lady Kore!" The blond releases him and the wounded man flags himself at my feet. "Help me. Please, my lady. Save me!" He begs, bowing his head.

"Anapos...what have they done to you?" My voice breaks into sobs as I look at the mangled face of Kyane's husband. Father of her unborn child. Blood boils in my veins and I march right up to the heinous man who kissed me not minutes ago. I tear out of my hoodie, uncaring about the cold that prickles my skin and throw it at him. He catches it easily. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I scream. He looks me up and down. Slowly, like he's savoring me. Suddenly I regret my decision to part with the piece of clothing. "What have you done to him?"

He holds my jacket like he's weighing it. "Answer me, Aidoneus!"

He glares at me instantly when I say his name as though I've truly slapped him. His voice is low and rough when he speaks. "Be careful how you address me, Kore." The threat is real in his eyes. Everything about him scares me. Still, I was more angry than I was afraid.

"What have you done to him? Why?"

"You heard earlier," His voice closer to a growl. "the hacker who worked for Python."

 _Anapos is the hacker?!_ The river engineer looks anything but with his vest sweater and clean long sleeve shirts. "There must have been a mistake." I argue. "He works for my mom."

"Yes, and anyone else who pays well."

 _But why? Why would Anapos do such a thing?_

Aidoneus jerks his head at the blond who takes it as a signal to put his rifle behind Anapos' skull. "No, don't!" I yell to the blue-eyed man as Anapos begins to weep so wretchedly. But the one whose words everyone was hanging on to, the one who has a shooter waiting for his orders, a mortal man on his knees praying for mercy, the one who looms over me, _he_ stands unyielding. No pardon from his lips.

Something in me snaps. Next thing I know I'm throwing a right hook. Before I could even land a hit, he's grabbed me by the arm and switched our positions, I'm pushed chest first against the side of the jeep with his body pressing down on my back. His lips move over my ear. Without thinking, I try to slam back my head into his face but he grips my hair and forces my face sideways, flat against the door. "You're a fiery little thing, aren't you sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Aidoneus! Get off me bastard!"

"Take his leg."

Immediately, a shot rang out. My jaw drops in shock. Blood drains from my face. Anapos is flat on the ground and he's screaming in pain. One of his legs sticks out at an odd angle covered in blood. Red. Soaking into the soil. The blond resumes his gun right above Anapos' head.

I enter a state of total paralysis when I realize what that was. _Aidoneus is punishing me._

"You understand now, don't you Kore?" He whispers low, breathing in the scent of my hair.

"Please. Please don't do this."

"Save your tears, sweetheart. He's a dead man walking."

"No." If Kyane's husband is really a dead man walking...Aidoneus wouldn't dangle him in front of me. "You want something." I state, sounding more sure than I felt. He turns me around and I know I've hit close to home. "What is it then? You want my head too? Is that it?"

"You're smart. I like that about you."

So this is how it's going to be...he's playing me out again. I barely register the hardness of his jeans tight against my stomach. I gulp down the bile rising at my throat. _Is he going to ask for my body?_

"State your demands and let him go."

He chuckles. "You'll do whatever I say?"

I nod.

"And you will swear on the Styx to keep it a secret?"

I nod.

I don't know what was signalled between Aidoneus and the shooter but hearing the rifle click, I grab at his jacket and pull him down to me. Unsuccessfully. "What do you want?" I scream.

Finally, he tilts his head and smiles. I wanted to punch that smug look right off his face! My wrists held firmly in his hands as he removes them from the lapel of his leather jacket. Then, he drops the bomb.

"Work for me."

* * *

 **PREPPY:** Happy New Year! Hope 2018 brings you closer to your dreams. =D

Review if you like. Or don't like. That's cool too.

 **Footnotes:**

 _1._ _ **Drakon**_ _–_ _Firstly, drakon could mean 'serpent' or 'dragon' but they are essentially monstrous snake-like beings that have rows of sharp teeth, poisonous physical attributes or multiple heads. In Greek myth, the creature is usually portrayed as a guardian to scared spring, grove or treasures. There are several types of dragons identified in Greek mythology, the serpentine Dracones, the marine Cetea, the fire-breathing Chimaera and the she-monster Dracaenae._

 _2._ _ **Python**_ _–_ _Python as a drakon is often equated and/or depicted as the Dracaenae (she-dragon) Ekhidna. He was a drakon which was tasked by Gaia to guard the oracle of Delphi and was slain by Apollo when the god laid claim to the shrine. Alternate versions suggest that Apollo killed the beast who pursued his mother, Leto, during her pregnancy. The oracle and festival of Delphoi were later on named 'Pytho' and 'Pythian' from the rotting 'pytho' corpse of the beast. In the chapter that you've just read, I've separated the entity that is Python from Ekhidna, turning him into her son instead._

 _3._ _ **Arimaspoi & Kimmeroi **__\- The Arimaspoi/Arimaspians and the Kimmeroi/Cimmerians are mythical tribes who, according to Homer, roamed over the lands which Typhoeus and Ekhidna were imprisoned. Some myths said the tribes were helpful to Zeus when he tried to imprison Typhoeus. The_ _Arimaspoi were a tribe of one-eyed men who lived at the foot of the Rhipaion or Rhipaean Mountains in northern Skythia (probably the Carpathians). They were also described to have dwelt at the ends of the earth beyond the River Okeanos in a land shrouded in mist and darkness where the gates of Tartarus was presumably located. They warred constantly with the gold-guarding Grypes aka Griffins_ _ **(IKR!)**_ _of the mountains winged beasts with the heads of eagles and the bodies of lions. According to Herodotos their name was derived from the Skythian words arima"one" and spou "eye". Upon further reading, there are indications that the tribe known as Kimmeroi (meaning 'of the Frost-Chilled Air') are in fact the Arimaspians. Uh huh, I was like fuck it. I'm just gonna feature both._

 _3._ _ **Chlorokinetic combat**_ _–_ _The power to utilize plants in combination of physical combat. The user is able to employ plant manipulation with their physical combat. Effectiveness of usage depends on the availability of plants, making this power relatively weak when used in desert or city. (Please go to: fandom wikia to search for more details under 'powerlisting' for chlorokinetic.)_

 _4._ _ **Zophon**_ _–_ _Awful hopeless darkness. I'm in one currently. Looool._


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